


In Spaces Unknown and Hardships Unnumbered

by Ashriver



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Adventure & Romance, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 69,126
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21894472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashriver/pseuds/Ashriver
Summary: All her life, Alyssa had been running from something. Templars, mage hunters, local guards. It all changed after she jumped from the fourth floor of Lord Bennett's keep and plunged headlong into a loaded cart, almost killing herself. When she woke, Duncan was conscripting her for the Grey Wardens. No longer able to run from her fate, Alyssa reluctantly takes leadership of Ferelden's last hope of surviving against the Blight.All his life, Zevran served the Antivan Crows, knowing only death and servitude to the guild masters. After accepting a contract to kill the remaining Grey Wardens, the last thing he expected was to be taken prisoner, let alone accepted as an ally. Wanting to put as much distance between him and his greatest sin, Zevran pursued the Warden Mage and found himself helpless once more. Instead of running from one of his deepest fears, he embraces it and hopes to find some kind of redemption.
Relationships: Alistair/Leliana, Zevran Arainai/Female Warden
Comments: 4
Kudos: 19





	1. After Ostagar

** Alistair **

The sun is setting over the Wilds. I've worn a ditch at the lip of a reed choked pond that smells of rot and rusted iron. Duncan is dead, my Warden brothers are all dead, and the king is dead. So many people slaughtered by Loghain's treachery that it turns my stomach. Duncan, I'm sorry I couldn't shield you. Off on some fool's errand when I should have...well, it doesn't matter now — stuck in a swamp with the only other Grey Warden in all Ferelden clinging to life by a thread. Nothing matters anymore.

She was the last recruit to pass The Joining, but Daveth and Ser Jory were not so lucky, Maker keep them. I expected some friction between us, what with my Templar training and she, a mage, an apostate no less. Duncan's judgment of character is... was stable enough and I trusted him, but this still made me nervous. A Warden apostate. She was so quiet. She barely said two words to anyone save for Duncan, and even then, they were short. I tried to engage her in conversation, but she was evasive at best and utterly silent at worst.

Duncan told me little about how he found her. He was passing by some Denerim noble's estate during a wedding and saw her bleeding to death on top of a pile of broken crates. Apparently, she had been on the roof of the building moments before. He didn't mention what she was doing up there, but I gathered it wasn't pleasant. She moved away from anyone who got too close to her. She gave her name begrudgingly. Alyssa.

At first, I thought she was with the merchants and healers, someone's daughter until she said Duncan has sent her to find me. He told me that he found a new recruit but failed to mention how young she looked. A pretty girl too, at least I think so, but not that it should matter. I got the feeling from the way she carries herself that she doesn't see it because anytime Daveth tried to flirt with her, all she gave back were blank stares as if he were talking to someone else. I'm used to being taller than most, but she makes me feel like a giant standing next to her. Her jaw is a bit square and flatters her full cheeks and thick eyebrows. Pink lips, dark brown eyes that remind me of the shape of butterfly wings, and more freckles than I have ever seen on anyone. I tried not to notice how curvy she was, but when you're surrounded by women who are either no more than waifs or stern-looking warriors, it's hard not to notice. It is the army, after all. All of her spiral brown curls are entirely out of control. It was quite funny to see her try to rein them in with a strip of leather she cut off her belt.

Duncan had sent us off into the Korcari Wilds to gather the last of the materials we need for the Joining. The fetid swamp chilled us all to the bone, but if she felt cold, she had hidden it well. Daveth seemed comfortable enough in our group. Ser Jory, not so much. I tried to ease his mind by telling him a full Warden can sense the darkspawn, whatever their cunning, but he didn't seem all that reassured. I looked over at Alyssa, her eyes cast distant, her mind miles from here. After a time, I tried talking to her. "What's your favorite color?" It was the safest question I could think of. She looked at me, furrowed her brow, and she was silent for so long that I figured she had forgotten what I had asked.

"Dark green," she said.

"Oh," I was surprised. "I'm partial to blue, myself." My lips quirked up into a smile. So did hers. She couldn't look up at me for very long. Quick glances were all she consented to. I wondered if my being a Templar just added to the awkward feeling between us. It couldn't have helped.

However, she felt about her situation, her Joining or me, Alyssa fought as one of us. Even as I complained about being sent to light the beacon in the Tower of Ishal, she just nodded to Duncan with a determined look on her face. All through the darkspawn filled tower, she showered the two guards and me with healing and protection spells. In the end, we were overpowered by the sheer number of our enemy and no aid from Loghain's retreating forces.

If I knew how dangerous things were to get, I would have acted more like a Grey Warden when Duncan sent us to the tower, not joking about dancing and cross-dressing. Stupid. Why do I have to be so stupid all the time? Maybe if I had been more serious, he would have let me fight beside him. Had I been less of a prat, perhaps I could have made him proud. If I was just a bit faster or stronger, if I refused to leave him, he might... might... It doesn't matter. He's gone. They're all gone. But not Alyssa.

The apostates we met earlier in this swamp are now trying to save the life of the mage that protected me from the surging spawn. Maker, please keep her safe. There is no help, no Wardens, no army, and no one to lead even if there were. She can't die. Just the thought makes me nauseous. Maker, please. I can't do this on my own. I just can't.


	2. Fear and Lothering

** Alyssa **

She was being followed. Footsteps fell rhythmically behind her crunching on dirt and dead twigs making her skin crawl. One of them was a Templar. The wilds witch didn't phase her a bit, but the Templar was another matter.

Alistair was the first to greet her at Ostagar. Well, greet was a strong word. She had arrived just as he and a Circle Mage were finishing an argument. As the irritated mage pushed past Alyssa, Alistair rolled his eyes, "You know. The one good thing about a Blight is how it brings us all together." An arched eyebrow was her only reply before he had launched himself into an introduction. Maker, he prattled on. There was a Rivaini word her father used for people like him, chiacchieron. He only remembered to ask her name when he finally stopped to take a breath.

"Alyssa."

"Right! That was the name," he smiled. It was warm and friendly, and in spite of the trepidation she felt, Alyssa was finding him quite charming.

She tipped her head in the direction of the now long gone mage, "What was he so mad about?"

"The mage?" Alistair said, "The Circle of Magi is here at the king's request, and the Chantry doesn't like that one bit. They just love letting mages know just how unwelcome they are." He rubbed his temple with a leather-gloved finger and smirked, "Which puts me in an awkward position since I was once a Templar."

Every muscle in Alyssa's frame tensed up, forcing her to take a step back. So much for charming. Heat shot up her arms and threatened to start curling into flame, but she managed to still the fire before it manifested.

Alistair frowned, seemingly unsurprised by her reaction. It couldn't be helped. The memory of that night was still an open wound. The running, the fire, the smell of blood, and the image of her mother slumped over with a Templar blade sticking out her back as Alyssa's father begged his little girl to look away. It was so long ago and yet still so near.

This man in front of her was not the one who drew her mother's blood, but she hadn't held onto the freedom her parents died for only to make nice with strangers. The Templar started to apologize. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable. I never finished my training, and honestly, it wasn't even my idea in the first place." He lowered his head and scowled. "I was sent to the Chantry as a boy and didn't have any choice in the matter." When he talked of Duncan, his face brightened, and he looked genuinely relieved. "He was the first person to care about what I wanted. I'll always be grateful."

She noticed how careful he was with his body language. He gave her space when they walked around the Ostagar camp, making sure to keep a few feet between them. Whenever she looked over, Alistair would smile warmly. He asked for her opinion and tried to get to know her better without prying. When they met Morrigan in the wilds, he cautioned the others to be wary instead of striking her down where she stood as Alyssa expected. That restraint earned her respect. His humor won him a smile, however slight. Most of all, Duncan had vouched for him.

Alyssa pulled her mind back to the present, walking with a not quite Templar and a witch of the wilds. Morrigan hadn't spoken two words to either of them since they left Flemeth and neither had Alistair since their discussion with the old woman. He was lost to his grief over his fallen brothers and Duncan. Alyssa couldn't fault him for that, but neither could she think of any words of comfort to offer. When she suffered her own losses, no words had been given to her.

She felt that she should say something. Alistair was there when she awoke in Flemeth's hut, and he seemed genuinely relieved that she was ok, which was not how a hardened Templar would react to a wounded apostate. Alyssa looked over at him, seeing tracks of tears cutting through the dust on his cheeks. The poor guy looked so heartbroken. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Alistair dragged his leather-wrapped wrist across his nose and squared his shoulders. "You don't have to do that," his voice was brusque. "I know you didn't know him as long as I did."

"Maybe not, but he helped me when I needed it, and I know I'll always be grateful to him. I regret not knowing him longer as you had. The way you talked about him, he was like a father to you it seemed."

"I…," he looked away and swallowed hard. "I should have handled it better." Alistair paused. Biting his bottom lip, he blinked away a fresh round of tears. "Duncan warned me this could happen. That any of us could die in battle. I shouldn't have lost it, not with so much riding on us. Not with the Blight…." He put a trembling hand to his forehead but was able to steady himself in spite of his pain, "…and everything. I'm sorry."

The Warden Mage regarded him. For such a big, strong guy, he could be so gentle. It didn't seem to bother Alistair that she was a mage. So far, he hadn't rubbed it in her face or looked down on her for it. A chatterbox he could be, but when he wasn't looking Alyssa allowed herself a smile at his jokes. Even when he was chilly with Morrigan, he was never a bully, and with his size and training, Alistair could have snapped the girl's neck in two if he was of a mind. Alyssa was willing to give him a chance. "You don't need to apologize. I understand."

"Have you had someone close to you die?" he asked softly. "Not that I mean to pry. I'm just…"

"It's ok," Alyssa felt a swell in her throat. "My parents. They gave up everything to protect me."

"I'm sorry."

They were silent for a time, just letting their feet carry them closer to Lothering. The town was cresting over the hill on the horizon. "Thank you," Alistair said. Alyssa cocked her head. "It was good to talk about it, at least a little."

"Ah," she nodded. "If you like, I can go with you to Highever. When this is all done. If that's ok?" Alyssa ducked her head and felt a different bit of heat creep into her collar and threaten to settle in her cheeks.

A wan smile pulled at his full lips. "I'd like that. So would he, I think."

Companionable silence settled in until a huge Mabari hound barreled down the road heading straight for the Wardens.


	3. Assassin's Plead

** Zevran **

He watched the girl run up the road, flagging down the last two Grey Wardens in Ferelden. It was about time they showed up. He ruined his best pair of boots slogging through this mud pit of a country. It didn't matter much as he wasn't planning on walking away from this fight anyhow. There were five of them and one of those stupid dogs he had seen in every corner of this place. An unarmed Qunari, a broad-shouldered man, two slender women, one with a staff and the other holding a bow were all being led by some short, chubby girl. The Wardens must have taken quite a beating if this was the last of them. The look on the leader's face was priceless when he drew his blades and said, "The Grey Wardens die here."

The dark-haired witch and red-headed archer fought back to back, showering the flanking attackers with arrows and explosive magic. The witch did an impressive maneuver, a fireball from one hand and a freezing blast from the other. The big guy clad in leather and metal cut up the middle with his shield and longsword, followed close behind by a vicious Mabari hound. The girl, a mage by the look of it, hung back doling out healing aid. While she was distracted, Zevran moved through the shadows to close in behind her. One swift slice from his poisoned blades and it would be all over.

The assassin studied his target from the safety of his shadow cloak. The Warden Mage didn't seem like the Warden type, at least not from the rumors that painted them as peerless warriors. In fact, she didn't look old enough to leave her mother's skirts, let alone join an order known for its ruthlessness and no killer instinct, clearly from the healing spells flowing from her hands. Zevran sneered.

He stepped from the shadow. The healer turned about, swinging her staff at his head. He ducked back in time but missed the follow up from the other end catching him in the gut. Instead of running, the Warden pushed forward. Drops of poison flicked off the points of his daggers as he brought them about to block the girl's strike. Staff against blades, they pushed each other, locking eyes. Like a lamb to the slaughter. Her breath was fast and shallow, her brow covered with beads of sweat. He was practically giving her victory, but she wouldn't land the killing strike. She was at his mercy.

Before Zevran could press further, a mass of fur and teeth slammed him against the wrecked wagon, raining splinters onto his face. Pain blasted through the back of his head, blurring his vision and turning his stomach upside down. All the colors bled into each other as he slid down like a sack of laundry. "Good doggy!" was the last thing he heard before his spinning world went dark.

* * *

There was no way to know how much time had passed when suddenly Zevran felt the air knocked out of him with a vicious thud at his back. Chips of wood fell in his hair as he was slammed against the side of the ruined wagon. It was amazing that there was anything left after the beating it took. A hand at his throat gripped just short of choking, but he was more concerned about the dagger near his eye. Not good. It was his dagger, still laced with deadly poison, and slow death was not what he had in mind. The one who held him was the same little healer he had on the ropes before. Now she had him by the throat, and her body was wreathed in translucent flames. Actual fire! Was that even possible? Did she feel the heat? She had her head turned, snarling something to her companions behind her. He couldn't make out the words for the ringing in his ears, but two things were sure; she was furious, and he was in big trouble.

Zevran tried pulling her hands away from his throat, but the throbbing in his head sapped his strength. His hands ended up just sliding useless down the sides of hers, not even able to get a good grip on anything. How his legs managed to keep him up was a wonder for all their buckling, although he imagined she was doing most of the work. For someone shorter than he, the girl was surprisingly strong.

"—take that chance!" She was shouting at the small group beside her. Well, at least the ringing stopped.

A red-headed woman with an Orlesian accent spoke in his defense. "The battle is over. We don't need to kill him. Let him go, please."

What was an Orlesian doing in Ferelden? After the war, Ferelden was an odd place for any of them to travel. Not that he was ungrateful for an advocate, mind you.

"Enough people are trying to kill us as it is, Leliana. I don't want him coming back for a second shot."

"Alyssa, please," she begged, "let him go."

She really was a Grey Warden! Zevran's vision started to clear. While Warden Alyssa was distracted by her companion, he took stock of the others in her company, and if there was any way he could get out of this mess. Near his left side, the Mabari that tackled him was scratching himself. He took his back paw and roughly dragged it behind his ear, panting as he went. When the dog's eyes met Zevran's, a low growling rumbled from the animal. The assassin shifted his gaze when he heard a different voice from behind the Warden.

A tall, dark-haired woman stood beside the redhead. She glanced up briefly from cleaning her nails, "Were I you, I would not let him live. Who knows when he will return and in how great a number." She narrowed her eyes and looked directly at him, "Kill him and be done with it."

The Warden mage pulled the dagger back, poised to strike despite Leliana's protest. Zevran clenched his eyes shut with a grimace, the pit of his stomach dropping out as he waited for the killing blow. Heat radiated down her arms, making his skin prickle and flush. Either he would burn to death from her fire or asphyxiate from his poison. Neither was the poetic end he was looking for. Beads of sweat ran down the side of his head as the moment crawled by.

He felt a sudden thunk near his ear, followed by a short curse. Opening his eyes, Zevran saw the dagger sunk deep into the side of the wagon, inches from his face. He exhaled sharply and panted. If she had let go, the elf would have dropped to his knees for sure. They were shaking so much that Zevran doubted they would hold him.

"Thank the Maker," Leliana said.

"Fuck the Maker!" The Warden swore again.

Zevran forced down a hysterical chuckle at her irreverence, not wanting to test his luck any further. He swallowed hard.

The fire dancing over the Warden had flickered and vanished, but her anger was still quite evident from her scowl. She turned her eyes back to his, "You've got thirty seconds. Convince me to spare you." Her words were punctuated by an extra squeeze around his neck. He could feel his pulse beat fast against her fingers.

The elf spoke quickly, "My name is Zevran. Zev to my friends. I am a member of the Antivan Crows, brought here to slay any surviving Grey Wardens, which I have failed at, sadly." He was barely able to choke out the words. Her grip gave his voice a strained reedy quality.

"Twenty-five seconds."

He felt something sharp at his ribs. Glancing down, he saw a small knife at his stomach. Zevran winced, "How many of those do you have?"

"Lots. Eighteen seconds. Who sent you?" He heard the other Warden standing just behind her snicker into his hand. At least someone had a sense of humor.

"A rather taciturn fellow at the capital, Loghain I think his name was?" he said.

Zevran's attention flicked to the group behind her when he heard the witch speak.

"It seems he's after you and Alistair." Her lips pulled into a smirk.

Another name revealed. Good to know. The more information he could get from them, the better his chances of surviving were at least for a little longer. If the Crows found him, well, one thing at a time, yes?

Warden Alyssa forced his chin forward, blade in hand, commanding his full attention. "When were you going back?"

The knife glittered cold in the mid-morning light dangerously close to his face while his words came out distorted from how hard she was gripping his face. "I wasn't." Her count down had stopped. It was an excellent time to take advantage. "If I succeeded, I would have returned home, and the Crows would have informed your Loghain of the results if he didn't know already." When she took her knife hand away, he lowered his head to the side and creased his brow in his best effort at looking crestfallen. "If I had failed, I would be dead or should be at least as far as the Crows are concerned. No need to see Loghain then."

He felt the Warden give him a jab with her knife. "Are you always this chatty or only on days when you're going to be murdered?"

"Think of it as something I'm throwing in for free." Zevran tried squirming back from the blade. "As it is, if you're done with the interrogation, I have a proposal if you are of a mind." He had enough dancing around the subject. If she was going to kill him, he might as well find out now.

"Andraste, give me strength." she rolled her eyes. "What do you want?"

Again he heard Warden Alistair snickering. Twice now, she had the chance to kill him, and she chose not to, and he could feel her grip on his neck ease up enough for him to speak more freely. "Well, here's the thing," he began after a moment. "I failed to kill you, so my life is forfeit. That's how it works. If you don't kill me, the Crows will. However, I like living, and you're obviously the sort to give the Crows pause, so let me serve you instead."

The Warden snarled, "Do you think I lost my damn mind?"

"I think you're royally tough to kill and utterly gorgeous." Her eyes dilated. Zevran pressed the advantage by throwing in a sheepish grin. "Not that I think you'll respond to simple flattery. There are worse things in life than serving the whims of a deadly sex goddess." He dipped his head, arching his brow.

"Well, when I find one, you can serve her all you want. Right now, tell me why I should take your sorry ass with me."

Now it felt as if she was starting to push him away instead of holding him down. Her hand slid from his neck to his chest, holding him hard against the cart. Embarrassment or revulsion, it didn't matter which got her to retreat so long as he came out of this with his head intact. "I am skilled at many things, from fighting to stealth and picking locks. I could also warn you should the Antivan Crows attempt something more…," he paused for a moment, thinking of the right word, "sophisticated, now that I have failed." He watched her expression change as she considered his offer and felt her pressure on his chest reduce quite a bit. Even her knife had disappeared back into her belt. Zevran raised his chest slightly, lowered his chin, and took a half step toward her, "I can also stand around and look pretty if you prefer. Warm your bed. Fend off unwanted suitors." He was tempted to slip his arm around her waist, but she might stab him or burn him, who knew with this one.

"What?!" Her eyes went wide.

Zevran felt her hand tremble and grinned, "See? I knew we would find a common interest, or two, or three." He moved forward and whispered in her ear, "Really, I could go all night."

"Shut your mouth!" A slap to the face knocked him stupid. Before he knew it, Zevran was finally on his knees after the Warden stepped away. It wasn't the first time he had been slapped like that, and it wouldn't be the last. At least he wasn't pinned against the wagon anymore, but his face hurt like hell.

Zevran touched his cheek gingerly, sure that it would be bruised tomorrow, and watched as Warden Alyssa tried to regain what was left of her composure. It didn't mean he was safe yet. She could still turn to any one of her companions and have them finish him off. The odds, however, seemed to be in his favor.

The Warden's gaze swept across the debris littering the clearing. Her shoulders sagged as she ran a hand through her hair, exhaling deeply. "Tie him up. If he runs, let him go. If he fights, Ashfur gets fed early tonight."

"What?" Alistair cut in, "We're taking the assassin with us now? Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"What difference does it make?" Warden Alyssa brushed the splinters and dust from her robe. "You see who we run with. We're not that fuckin' selective so stop arguing with me!" She rubbed her face with both hands before grumbling, "Gods above, I have such a headache…"

Not that he was ungrateful to be spared, but it did make him wonder what was going to happen to him. In the back of his mind, the training from the Crows echoed. Being taken prisoner is the worst thing that can happen to you. He could make jokes about being tied up and tortured, but the reality of it chilled him.

"Ouch. Maybe true, but ouch," Warden Alistair shrugged. "Oh whatever, I'm sure you know best." He was a grown man sounding like a child. Would he stick his tongue out next?

The dark witch stared at Zevran as Warden Alistair wrapped his hands with a thick rope. Her face stony, "A fine plan, but I would examine your food and drink far more closely, were I you."

Zevran smiled, "That's excellent advice for anyone." Never let them see you sweat, whether they can conjure flames or not. Alistair finished off the rope by binding the assassin's arms to his sides. He could still walk, but if they decided to be rough with him on the road, it could result in a nasty fall. Zevran was guided to his feet. It relieved him to know his legs would still bare him.

Before he could voice his thanks to Warden Alistair, no matter how calculated, Warden Alyssa was yanking him by the scruff of his neck. "I suffer no fools. If I even get a whiff of you causing trouble, I'll cut off your balls and use them as earrings. Clear?"

Zevran swallowed hard, "Crystal." When she walked to the head of the group, he let out the breath he almost choked on when she grabbed him.

A thud on his back made his eyes bug. "She means that," Alistair said.

Abject terror lets one forget what else surrounds them, it seemed. At least Alistair was gentle, albeit firm, as he led the assassin to wherever.

Grey Warden's fought darkspawn, didn't they?


	4. Honor Among Thieves

** Alyssa **

"Come and get it," Alistair's voice carried across the camp. Alyssa peered into the cooking pot at a bubbling gray mass. Feeling her stomach lurch, she reminded herself, it's that or it's nothing. Alistair handed her a bowl with a smile. "Dig in."

"Thanks," she said. As the others were gathering around and giving the meal similar dubious looks, she thought about their prisoner. The assassin had been tied up since that afternoon. Now the sky was dark and full of stars, and she still had no idea what to do with him. Anytime someone had tried to kill her, she just ran, but as a Grey Warden, she didn't have that option. In hindsight, taking the assassin prisoner seemed like an idiotic idea. Too late now. So far, he hadn't tried to escape, and since the ambush, he hadn't spoken or anything. He just followed all tied up without a single complaint. Alyssa frowned, "Did Zevran get something to eat yet?"

"Who?" Alistair asked.

"The elf we tied up this afternoon."

Alistair hooked a thumb, "Probably not. He's in the back of Bodahn's cart, all done up like a Saturnalia gift. I dunno if he's plotting or sulking, and frankly, I don't care. I still don't know why you dragged him with us."

She sighed, "Me neither." The Wardens looked at each other for a moment. Alyssa frowned, "What was I supposed to do? You heard what he said about being killed by the…he said Crows, right? I couldn't just leave him there like that. Besides, at least we know where he is now."

"He's an assassin! He tried to kill us, remember that?" Alistair said.

"Vividly." She looked over at the elf. Zevran was leaning against a burlap bag with his legs stretched out in front of him. Ashfur had wandered over to give him a quick sniff. The dog approached him, haunches low to the ground. When he turned his head toward the Mabari, Ashfur whined and ducked away. After a moment, he settled down a couple of feet from the cart, resting his head on his paws. "Being hunted is terrifying. No one should have to endure that." She felt a gentle tapping against her hand. Without meeting her eyes, Alistair held up a full bowl. "You're the best," she smiled and accepted.

"I know," he said with a wink back at her.

When she approached Bodahn's cart, the assassin's gold eyes locked with hers. A shiver ran down her back. "I thought you might be hungry," Alyssa said.

He lifted his bound hands as far as they would go, his arms still bound tight to his sides.

"Oh. Right." She bit her lip. Several moments crawled by, causing a hot prickle to break out over her skin. "Scoot over." Zevran swung his legs around, letting them dangle over the edge of the cart as Alyssa hoisted herself up next to him. She kept one bowl in hand and the other at her side.

The assassin raised an eyebrow when she offered a spoonful of stew.

"Deal with it or starve. I don't care which," Alyssa's eyes narrowed. The prickling sensation intensified to a flush of heat under her robes, silent confirming she had lost her damn mind.

Zevran looked at her askance. To his credit, he kept quiet and closed his lips over the spoon even without a lurid glance. The sudden grimace that followed confirmed her initial evaluation of dinner. "Did you make this?" was all he asked.

"Not even on my worst day."

He chuckled, a warm rumbling sound in his chest, making her feel like she stepped into a hot bath. Curbing her expression, she lifted another spoonful for him, which he accepted gracefully. This was the first time Alyssa was able to really look at the elf. His eyes were almond-shaped and the color of honey. Two small braids tucked behind his ears gathered his golden hair back from his face, on the right side of which rode three curving tattoos running from below his temple to his chin. His features were elegant and powerful, the curve of his jawline softening at his neck, and his olive skin looked like it caught the sun in a gentle embrace.

Alyssa must have been lost in thought because when Zevran spoke, she felt herself start at the sound, "Do I frighten you?"

'Say something clever,' she thought. "We should have gagged you as well." 'Idiot.'

"Well, aren't you the vicious little minx," he laughed, and his needle-sharp canines glittered in the low light.

"If I were truly vicious, you'd fit in this bowl," her lip curled up into a snarl. "You want the rest? Shut up."

He winced. "I'll take my chances. I'm not even sure what that is."

She shrugged. "Alistair said it was lamb. Of course, I don't remember lamb being grey."

"Or rubbery?"

"Or greasy."

"Well, if you haven't had any yet, I wouldn't advise 'digging in' as it were." He nodded to the bowl opposite her. "This could be considered cruel and unusual punishment, you know."

"Not much choice, though." Another silence settled in. The Warden shifted on the cart, feeling the dense wood pressing into her rump and irritating her tail bone. The first shift for guard duty would begin soon while the others got some rest. She wondered who would watch Zevran. Where would he sleep? How would he sleep? Then she remembered no one bothered to see to his wounds if he had any. She put the bowl down, "I should have asked before if you needed healing."

"Why would you ask at all? I am a prisoner," Zevran said.

"That doesn't mean you don't deserve to be treated like a person. Are you hurt?"

"My shoulder is probably dislocated, and these ropes are quite tight."

They looked at each other, brown eyes locked with gold. Ashfur started to growl when Alyssa reached to loosen the rope. "Shhh," she soothed. "He can't stay tied up forever."

Zevran licked his lips. "Three days, sixteen hours, and forty-five minutes is my record."

Knots started falling loose under her hands. "I liked you better with your mouth full." As soon as the words left her, she regretted it. Alyssa slowly closed her eyes for a beat letting out a sigh, "Shut up." He smiled broadly but said nothing.

When the ropes finally fell free, he exhaled deeply, and his shoulders slumped forward. Alyssa noticed his left arm dangling limply at his side. "Damn. You were right, it's dislocated. I'll need help putting it back in place." Zevran stretched his neck about and rolled his good shoulder, wincing any time his left side moved. She knew those ropes were too tight, and they probably made the pain all that much worse. The light of the two campfires barely reached Bodahn's cart. Even so, angry dark marks on his wrists were visible. "He shouldn't have been so heavy-handed. I'm sorry about that." Healer compulsion guided her hands to his wrists, and she started to massage the area to coax his circulation.

Zevran was watching her. She didn't have to look up to know that. As she rubbed his wrists, Alyssa could feel the fine hairs leading up his arm, the strength in the tendons, the texture that was not quite soft but not leathery either. It seemed right that his skin was warm under her fingertips.

After a few moments, Zevran broke the silence, "Compassion usually ends with a knife in someone's back."

Alyssa pushed herself off the cart. "Yeah, well, nobody's perfect. Come on," she gestured for him to move forward off the edge. It was his turn to narrow his eyes. She held up her hands to him, "You gotta move off there at some point." Zevran hesitated for a moment longer, glancing at his left side. "I'm stronger than I look," she smiled. He still shifted about, eyes scanning the ground, probably for an alternative descent. "Hey," she said, getting his attention, "I promise I won't drop you." With a nod and grunt, he pushed himself off the cart's edge and tumbled forward. Alyssa caught him but was forced to take a step back and steady herself since his decent was clumsy. As they made their way to the cook fire, she noticed him favoring one leg to the other.

"Maker's breath," Alistair said as they approached. "Why did you untie him?"

"To annoy you." She shifted her weight, still bracing Zevran, and said to him, "Alistair is going to hold the right side of your body still so I can pop the shoulder back into place. It'll hurt. Probably a lot. Are you ok with this?"

"Trust me, my dear," he said smoothly, "It would take a great deal of effort for you to hurt me."

She rolled her eyes. Men, no matter the type, were very much the same. Thank the possible Maker and the probable assorted Gods she was in charge of this goon patrol. Otherwise, they'd all have ended up in their small clothes on a ship bound for Tevinter with tattoos on their foreheads. "Hold him."

Alistair wrapped his arms around the elf. Before any more smart-ass comments were made, Alyssa torqued Zevran's left shoulder back into place with a grunt and a pop. Zevran had made a sound that was half surprise, half pained but controlled whatever it was he felt rather aptly. When Alistair let go, Zevran moved to rub his shoulder. "Don't do that." Alyssa interrupted, "You might aggravate it. If you're still in pain, let me help."

He grinned broadly, "Oh? How do I know this is not just some ploy to manhandle me?"

"Sweetheart," she said, stone-faced, "you'll know when I manhandle you." Alyssa grabbed the right side of his belt and swung him around hard. A shove to the hips straightened his gait, three jabs to his rib cage set the hairline fractures correctly, and hooking her leg around his followed by a yank, eased the tendons in his knee. Finally, holding his waist, the Warden pumped a jolt of magic into his spine to dull the pain. Zevran hit the ground knees first and breathing hard. "Better?"

"What was that?" he gasped.

"I figured if you were going to mouth off for every broken bone, I'd speed the process along, "Alyssa said. "You're going to be dizzy for some time, so take my tent for the night."

Alistair started, "Wait. Where are you going to sleep?"

"I…," she felt the weight of the day dragging at her, "I'm not tired. I'll take watch with you and think about that later."

Zevran managed to get to his feet. Alistair caught him under the arm as he swayed.

"Be gentle with him," Alyssa said. She watched Alistair help him to a tent at the far end of the camp, wondering still if she had done the right thing by inviting death to dinner. The numbing nerve spell given in a heavy-handed dose would keep him off his game until sunrise, but Alyssa wouldn't be able to drug him forever. Eventually, she would have to trust him or kill him. This would not be the last of the long nights.


	5. As the Crow Flies

A bolt of fear shot through Zevran's stomach as he plunged his hand under the pillow seeking a blade that was never there. He threw himself upright only to be brought up short by a leaden feeling in his chest and arms, slowing his movements. Piece by piece, it all came back to him; the failed assassination and being taken prisoner. Last night's events unfolded in his mind leading Zevran to his present state. The healer Warden had tended to his wounds and offered her tent, sadly without her company. All through the night, he slept soundly for the first time since he was a child in the whorehouse. It must have been the spell she cast on him after she had wrung him out like a wet rag.

As Zevran started to feel his limbs lighten, he sat up in the tent. He had been relieved of his weapons at some point, even the ones hidden under his clothes. It was a little disconcerting to know that someone had their hands on him in such a vulnerable state. Still, he remembered the last words Warden Alyssa had said to the big man who carried him. "Be gentle."

Ridiculous. How could one of the last surviving wardens be a glorified bandage pack? Surely whatever gods may exist were having quite the laugh. Zevran crawled out of the tent, squinting against the bright sky overhead. Another cloudless crisp morning in the land of mud and dogs. Charming.

The assassin spied Alyssa loading some of the camping equipment into the back of the dwarf's big wooden cart. She was dressed in dark blue robes with bell sleeves and fur trim around the cuffs and collar. Under this was a black cloth that hugged her body, at least what he could see of her legs and arms that brushed out from underneath. When she turned about, he noticed bright silver clasps closed down the front with a thick leather belt at her hips matching her boots.

Zevran walked over and leaned against the cart regarding her with narrowed eyes. "You didn't kill me."

"You didn't kill us either." Not missing a beat, Alyssa kept loading the supplies, "Funny how that worked out."

He watched her work, letting his eyes wander all over her. Now that he wasn't trying to kill her or being held at knifepoint, he was able to appreciate what he saw. The robe certainly fell onto all the right places, setting off all the right curves, and the cascade of brown curls that fell across her shoulders did her justice. Unfortunately, she yanked her hair back with a leather strip, binding it tight away from her face. Such a shame. She didn't have the same shape as most Ferelden women he encountered; in fact, her hips and generous bosom were more like the Rivani people. It still fascinated him that she was shorter than him. Next to Alistair, the size difference was comical, to say the least. Full lips were always a favorite of his, and he had never seen anyone with so many freckles. For a moment, he imagined how far under that black under armor they went.

Because she kept moving, he couldn't see the color of her eyes. Brown? Blue maybe? He remembered to not so long ago, green eyes with a lethal glint in a heart-shaped face colored cream and roses. But they saw nothing anymore. It didn't matter. Those green eyes were gone, and he was here, trying to figure out what to do with himself.

"Why not?" He crossed his arms.

She stopped and looked at him, "Seriously?"

Her eyes were brown. No, that wasn't right, not with the sunlight hitting them. Amber, a soft luminous quality, so gentle in their gaze, he had to turn away.

"Prisoners aren't given even a mouthful of bread and water. Yet you make sure my stomach is full, my wounds are tended, and my night is uninterrupted. I was expecting to have my throat cut this morning, but not even a guard outside. You are really bad at this."

"You done?"

Zevran flinched at her deadpan tone. "Uh….yes?"

"Good," said Alyssa. "Look, Zevran. I don't know what kinds of people you're used to dealing with, but I would need a damn good reason to treat someone so poorly, let alone kill someone."

"I tried to kill you."

"Yes, and you did such a good job of it too," she patted his cheek with a patronizing pout before reaching for more supplies to load. "You also asked for protection. So which is it? Do you want me to kill you or not?"

He shook his head, "I don't understand. If assassination does not force your hand, what does? Do only darkspawn deserve your ire?"

Her hand lingered on top of a worn blanket, worrying a frayed end that would soon become a hole if not mended. Alyssa swallowed hard, the moment stretching out the silence between them further and further. Just when he thought she wouldn't respond, she said, "A cage." Her fingers flexed and released several times before she spoke again. "A blade is honest. It ends things. A cage," her voice trembled, "…that can be forever."

The ways of the mage. Zevran had forgotten. Being caged would terrify her kind, and yet he knew of cages as well, even those without bars, but did not feel as she. "Was the Circle of Magi that terrible?"

"I wouldn't know. I was never there." She piled the last of the gear onto the back of the wagon. "Was there something else you wanted? If not, there's plenty for you to do besides wasting time with me."

"Only to give you assurance," he said. "I promised to serve you in return for protection from the Crows. I hereby pledge my oath of loyalty to you until such a time as you choose to release me from it. I am your man, without reservation, this I swear." His speech was followed by a curt nod.

Alyssa blinked. "…Ok." She shifted about on her feet. "Go wrap the tents?" She shrugged and pointed at the campgrounds. His back was turned when she called to him once more, "Zevran." He tilted his head toward her as she handed him a rough leather pack. "Your things are inside, all accounted for. Please tell me if something's missing."

'Only my mind,' he thought. He kept his expression closed, only offering another nod before attending to his duties about camp.

Breaking down the tents was easy enough. Really, a stiff wind could have done the job; however, it kept his hands busy and his mind from buzzing, so it did serve some purpose. Before long, Zevran noticed that he was not alone. Ashfur, the Mabari that laid him flat the other day, was trailing around after him while he worked. No menacing growl came from the hound, just a low whine and a tilt of the head. These dogs were supposed to be known for their intelligence, and Zevran wondered how smart they really were. Was he following the elf for lack of direction, or was he sussing out a threat? Zevran smiled, "We have dogs in Antiva. They run in the streets and eat garbage."

Ashfur creased his brow and whimpered.

"It's true," Zevran slung a folded tent, tightly bound with ropes, over his shoulder. "They're treated like vermin mostly. Not like here in Fereldan. You're rather lucky to live here, you know."

The Mabari padded after the elf as he went about his chores. "Ruff!" he wiggled his stubby tail.

They walked side by side toward the dead campfire. "Indeed," Zevran set the tent down with a thud, sending up a puff of dry dirt. "Here, they make statues of dogs. They carve you into their thrones and put armor on you. Amazing, really." Zevran slipped his hand into one of the pouches in his belt, withdrawing a small piece of hard cheese. He threw it to Ashfur, who gobbled it up quickly.

"Arf!"

"But you still smell like a dog," Zevran wrinkled his nose. "In fact, you smell like several dogs."

Ashfur smiled up at him, "Woof." He panted and blinked in the sunlight.

Zevran chuckled, "Yes, well. Ignorance is bliss, I suppose."

* * *

"I wanted to thank you. What you did the other day was very merciful."

Alyssa blinked. She hadn't heard Leliana approach. How she was able to move about in that Chantry robe without making a sound was nothing short of spectacular. "You're welcome. What did I do?"

The sister smiled, "With Zevran. Did you forget already?"

"No. I guess I'm just a bit distracted."

Leliana put her hand on Alyssa's shoulder, drawing her full attention. "You did a good thing. Others would not have stayed their hand. He may not have yet, but I thank you for your kindness."

The mage almost blurted out, 'I didn't do it for you' but thought better of it and held her tongue. If she was going to ask for help from strangers, she had to play nice with the other kids. The sentiment of Leliana's words did come across, even though her Chantry association was unnerving. She had been nothing other than sweet and helpful since they left Lothering, and not just to Alyssa, but to the whole team. Between her and the almost Templar, Alyssa felt the world was being turned on its head. "Well, I try not to cut my way through things."

"The knowledge you have of healing," Leliana said, "were you trained as a physician?"

She nodded, "My mother trained me. She said people would see that and not my magic. It was another layer of protection. No one is willing to lose a skilled healer, especially in the countryside where the nearest city is days away."

"She is a wise woman."

"Was."

Leliana lowered her head. "I'm sorry."

Alyssa nodded, slinging a burlap sack onto the cart. "Me too." Ashfur's happy barks reached their ears from the other side of camp. Both women looked over to the Mabari and the assassin. Zevran's movements were fluid, like a dance as he went about folding tents and piling them up by the fire pit. One sweep of his arm and a twist of the wrist, had them bundled in seconds and propped up on his shoulder as he strode across the camp. The way his muscles rippled under his skin in the morning light sent a thrill through her.

"He is quite handsome, isn't he," Leliana's light voice broke Alyssa's reverie.

She shrugged, "Well, sure. He's tall, broad-shouldered, and has that knight-in-shining-armor thing."

The sister laughed, "I was talking about Zevran."

She snorted, "He's a loose cannon." The Warden frowned and crossed her arms, leaning against the lip of the wagon. "There's no telling what's going on in his head, handsome or not." She cocked her head at Leliana, "Hang on, why are we talking about this?"

"You were ogling him."

"I was not." A flush of heat skittered up her neck and threatened to fill her cheeks despite keeping her expression on a short leash.

"Yes, you were. I saw you." From the wink and grin, it didn't seem like Leliana was buying it. The elf and the dog had started playing fetch once their chores were done, oblivious to the alleged ogling.

"I do not ogle."

"You do."

"Not that time."

"You did."

Alistair walked up behind Leliana. "Who did what?" He wore an unsure smile, the kind one has when arriving in the middle of a joke.

"Nothing," Alyssa said. "We've got everything packed except the tents. Zevran's got them piled up by the fire pit. Would you mind?"

"Got it."

Alyssa and Leliana didn't even try to hide the way they watched Alistair's hips move under the splint mail leggings he wore. He hadn't put on the chest piece yet. A simple linen shirt stretched snuggly across his shoulders, giving his physique a softer look. He scooped up all five tents in his arms and shifted them about to get a better grip. The effort caused his muscles to flex against the fabric, pulling it tight against his skin. Alyssa felt her heart pumping harder as he strode back toward the wagon, dropping the tents in the back of it and dusting off his hands. "Thank you," she said, her face expressionless. "We'll be leaving soon, so get your stuff together."

He nodded and took his leave.

After he was out of earshot, she leaned over to Leliana and said, "Ok, that time, I was ogling."

"Me too," Leliana exhaled, "Oh, Maker!"

The sister and the Warden burst out laughing, successfully confusing everyone else. Once the cart was loaded, and everyone had their personal effects gathered, the team made their way up the road toward Redcliff to see Arl Eamon. Alyssa hoped Alistair was right about this noble. In her experiences, the rich and powerful were nothing but trouble.


	6. Confessions of a Royal Bastard

The rusty hills of Redcliffe slowly came into view as the team lead by the Wardens made their way down the winding path. Soon they would have an audience with Arl Eamon, and hopefully, he would pledge his knights to their cause. Of course, this also meant that they would be discussing Loghain and his claim to the throne. That would be awkward. Alistair started to sweat through the linen tunic he wore under his splint mail. He hadn't exactly been forthright with Alyssa when he talked about his lineage and being here in Redcliffe complicated matters. He would have to tell her the whole story and soon before someone else tipped his hand. It wasn't a conversation he was relishing, to say the least, especially since she had been slow to trust him.

Alyssa had come around after they had entered Lothering. She would seek him out at camp, joke with him, and her smile was just incredible. It was like a shy spring flower opening up under the sun. Leliana was to thank for a lot of it. When she joined them, Alyssa was still very hesitant to speak with her traveling companions. Now with the sister in tow, the Warden Mage was opening up much more. Leliana had a way with people. When she spoke to you, it was unmistakable that she really cared just in the way she looked at you. That smile was radiant and only made more captivating by her wild red hair framing her face. He would have walked a hundred miles to hear her laugh, hold her hand, curl her hair around his fingertips.

He pushed the image from his mind. Right now, he had to decide how best to tell his fellow Grey Warden the secret that had chased his heels throughout his life. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to think of the best way to begin. Alistair touched her shoulder, "Look, can we talk for a moment? I need to tell you something I, uh, should probably have told you earlier."

Alyssa nodded to him and waved for Leliana, Zevran, and Ashfur to go on ahead. She turned back to Alistair, giving him a weak smile, "I'm not going to like this, am I?"

He scratched the side of his head, "I don't know. I doubt it. I've never liked it, that's for sure." He took a deep breath. As if pulling out a nasty splinter from the skin, Alistair spoke as quickly as possible, hoping that it would lessen the shock. "I told you before how my mother was a serving girl in the castle, and Arl Eamon raised me, right? The reason he did that was because, well, because my father was King Maric, which made Cailan my half-brother, I suppose."

The color drained from Alyssa's face so quickly that Alistair barely had time to grab her before she passed out. He guided her to her knees, feeling her shaking. "Maker's breath! Are you alright?"

Alyssa groaned and pulled her arm away from him, trying to settle herself on the ground. Her face was ashen, and it was a while before she could say anything. "Does Loghain know?" She wrapped her arms tight around her stomach.

Alistair scoffed. "Why wouldn't he? He was King Maric's best friend. I don't know if that means anything, though." He pulled his shield off his back, setting the lip of it on the ground in front of him. A cold ache crept into his chest, making it harder to breath deep.

She hung her head, avoiding his eyes. "You're a prince," she said. "I can't believe you're a prince. When were you going to tell me this?"

"I would have told you sooner, but it never really meant anything to me." Alistair shrugged and let his hands fiddle with a loose piece of wood near the top of his shield. "I was inconvenient, a possible threat to Cailan's rule, so they kept me a secret. I've never talked about it to anyone."

Alyssa growled at him, still ashen, "A Templar and a prince. When you decide whether to have me turned tranquil or drawn and quartered, do try to let me know sooner than this. Can you do me that kindness?"

"I would never do either! You're my friend, not just another Grey Warden, not an apostate, and certainly not someone who deserves death for an accident of birth." No, not this, anything but this. Alistair heard this kind of thing before, and to have it come from someone he admired so much was beyond horrible. True, they hadn't been together long. Still, the courage she had shown alone by the way she took up her Warden responsibilities in the face of the Blight won his respect and his affection.

Alyssa glared up at him, her voice getting louder and louder with each word. "First off, my birth wasn't a fucking accident, but we're gonna put a pin in that, 'your highness,' because there's more important shit to deal with right now." Now the rest of the group was staring over at them with puzzles looks. "Do you have any idea how important this is? What the hell were you thinking of joining the Grey Wardens! Not telling me was bad enough, but taking a risk this huge when you should be ruling Fereldan is beyond reckless. Did Duncan know, or did you lie to him too?"

"Yes, he did, but please let me explain," he let his shield drop to the ground and knelt before her, desperate to make her understand. Alyssa recoiled from him as he spoke. "I'm used to not telling anyone who didn't already know. It was always a secret. Duncan was the only Grey Warden who knew. Then after the battle when I should have told you…," Alistair shook his head and looked away, feeling a lump in his throat, "I don't know. It seemed like it was too late by then. How do you just tell someone that?"

There were a few moments before he heard her speak again, this time softer, "Avoiding it and hoping it goes away is probably not a good first step."

"Yes, well. I suppose part of me kind of liked you not knowing."

"So help me, Andrast—"

"People treat me differently," Alistair blurted out. "I become the bastard prince instead of just 'Alistair.' I know that must sound stupid to you, but I hate that it's shaped my entire life. I never wanted it, and I certainly don't want to be king. The very idea of it terrifies me." His lip curled up into a snarl as not so distant memories of ill-treatment and sycophantic behavior came to mind. "Everyone who knew either resented me for it or they coddled me. Even Duncan kept me out of the fighting because of it. I didn't want you to know as long as possible. I'm sorry."

Alyssa was silent for some time, and just before Alistair's anxiety forced him to fill the void, he heard her say, "My mom burst into tears when she saw me freeze a cup of milk. It took dad all day to calm her down. She didn't smile much after. I was five years old, and it was my fault that mommy lost her smile. They never said that or made me feel that way, but I guess I was aware enough to know what happened and aware enough to blame myself."

Their eyes met and they both sighed heavily, a small grin beginning to take shape for each of them. Alistair saw the tension in her shoulders ease, and a tender look replaced the fear she had clearly felt when they started talking. He sent a silent prayer of thanks to the Maker.

"I hope you're not waiting for me to call you Prince Alistair," Alyssa said.

"No! Maker's breath, just hearing that gives me a heart attack." Relief flooded him when she started to laugh. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for not telling you sooner. I guess I was just hoping that you would like me for who I am. It was a dumb thing to do."

"I do like you and not because of your lineage." She squeezed his sword arm.

" Oh, I… Oh. You see, I didn't know that." He felt, well, he wasn't really sure what he felt, to be honest. For a moment, Alistair was hoping that Leliana wasn't watching from a distance, but he was glad that Alyssa seemed to be feeling better about the whole royal thing. "I guess it's kind of relief that you know now." Alistair stood up and slung his shield onto his back. He offered a hand to Alyssa, helping her to her feet. "So there you have it. Now can we move on, and I'll just pretend you still think I'm some nobody who was too lucky to die with the rest of the Grey Wardens."

Alyssa grinned, "What's that make me, I wonder?"

"The reason why I say I was lucky." He smiled, raising his hand to let her walk ahead of him down the path to the bridge where Zevran, Leliana, and Ashfur waited.


	7. The Trouble with Nobles

Zevran sheathed his twin daggers and scowled at the guards that lay at his feet. Warden Alyssa ordered them to hold their lethal force for any human they encountered on the off chance that they could be saved. The animated corpses were fair game, but it was still an effort to incapacitate instead of kill. However, he made an oath and would obey. They made their way through the castle, dispatching many of the undead. When the group reached the main hall, Isolde and Bann Teagan were with a young boy he assumed to be Connor and several castle guards.

No killing then. Pity.

The team defeated the few men that were gathered there, ending the fight in a matter of minutes. With his blades sheathed, he gave the guard at his feet one last kick to the gut, just because. Zevran turned his attention to the noblewoman sniveling under Warden Alyssa's cold glare.

"Please," Isolde whimpered, "Conner's not responsible for this. There must be some way we can save him!"

"You knew," Alyssa growled softly. "You knew the whole damn time." The mage once again had little tongues of flame dancing about her shoulders as she had when Zevran first met her. Ah, the good old days. He suddenly wished he had a snack on hand to go with the entertainment.

Isolde ducked her head. At least she had the good graces to look ashamed, fleeting though it was. "I…Yes, I didn't tell you because I believed we could help him. I still do."

Alyssa's voice grew louder as she spoke, "You can believe the clouds are made of spun sugar, but that doesn't make it true. That boy is an abomination. Isn't that why you people lock mages away, out of fear of us becoming like your son?"

Bann Teagan said, "I do not know if we can save him. Demons do not listen to reason." He placed a hand on Isolde's shoulder only to have her shrink from his touch.

"He is not always the demon you saw. Connor is still inside, and sometimes he breaks through. Please, I just want to protect him!" Isolde's eyes were wide as she pleaded with Teagan and Alyssa.

"Isn't that what started this?" Teagan said sharply. "You hired the mage to teach Conner in secret, to protect him." It was apparent how Alyssa felt about it, but to hear Connor's uncle snap at Isolde was very interesting.

Now it was the noble lady's turn to raise her voice, "If they discovered Connor had magic, then they'd take him away! I thought if he learned just enough to hide it, then—”

Alyssa shouted at her, "And because you have power and money to hide behind, who would question it?" The grip on her staff turned her knuckles white, and the bits of flame grew stronger, more opaque. Zevran glanced quickly at Leliana and Alistair, noticing their tension building with his as Alyssa's hold on her temper started to slip. "Never mind all those you put at risk. Never mind the children whose parents are too poor to buy them protection from the Templars. Do you even know how many died last night? Do you care how many, child and parent alike, were dragged off into the darkness by walking corpses?"

"Of course, I care. I'm no monster," Isolde said.

"Just a liar and a hypocrite. That's so much better!" Alyssa slammed the bottom of the staff into one of the flagstones, cracking it under the strength of her fury. Everyone in the room jumped back from her, shielding their faces, except for Alistair. He reached for her, risking the flames and placing a hand on her shoulder. The fire ceased as quickly as it formed, leaving him unharmed. Not even a singe marked his leather glove, much to Zevran's astonishment. Now, why would that be? Either the girl must have incredible control, or the flames were just for show. In any case, it was a fantastic scare tactic. Zevran heard Isolde speak. Apparently, the noblewoman had found her voice once again.

"How dare you, mage!" Isolde said.

Alyssa ignored her, "Where did it go?"

"I think Connor ran upstairs to the family quarters," Bann Teagan replied. He turned to Isolde. "Did Eamon know nothing of your plans?"

"He would only demand we do the right thing." She scowled, her face reddening, "I was not going to lose my son! Not to...to magic!" Isolde spat the last word at Alyssa with eye narrowed to slits.

Alyssa waved off Isolde and headed down the hall leading out of the keep, "Handle it on your own. I have a Blight to stop."

Alistair chased after her, "Alyssa! We can't just leave them like this."

"Why not? She didn't want to lose that thing to magic, why should magic save it?"

"He's not a thing, Alyssa, he's a little boy!"

Isolde ran after them, "Please! I should be punished, not Connor. There must be something we can do."

"There is. We can leave." She didn't even do her the courtesy of turning around. Such a cold display caused a grin tug at Zevran's lips.

Isolde wasn't about to let up. Again she shouted at the Warden as she followed them to the front doors, which was quite stupid when one thought about it. "You would just walk away? How could you?" she yelled. Fereldans were an interesting lot. Asking sweetly at first and then bullying when they didn't get their way. Zevran preferred a more direct route. See, want, take, very simple. Then again, nothing in this strange country was proving to be simple.

Alyssa turned on Isolde. "My parents died protecting me because cowardly nobles like you refuse to stand up for what is right." She pushed Isolde with her free hand as she spoke, driving the woman back into the main hall, eyes glittering with anger and body wreathed in flames once again. "You kowtow to the Chantry and hide your mage whelps behind walls of gold and titles, while good people like my parents get put to the sword for the very thing you fear. They didn't want their child taken from them either. Instead of finding a better way together, you cast other children into the arms of butchers and dungeon keepers, because it's easier than seeing your own brood caged."

"What would it take for you to consider helping Connor?"

"There is nothing you have that I would possibly want."

Isolde squared her shoulders, "My family is powerful and wealthy. If you can save my son, I would give you anything in return."

"Anything?" The flames vanished, but Zevran noticed the eerie calm that washed over the Warden, which was even more terrifying. Leliana and Alistair must have felt it too. Leliana stepped closer to Zevran as Alistair advanced toward Alyssa. Zevran knew she was baiting Isolde, and the fool walked right into it.

"Name your price." She was the noble lady once more. There was no mistaking that gleam of power in her eye, the one that said 'I can buy you,' and she was right. Everyone had their price; prince and pauper and all in between. It was just a matter of degree. Isolde stood tall, looking directly at Alyssa. Zevran watched them with bated breath.

The mage leaned in close and said in a soft, calm voice, "I want my mother back, you self-righteous bitch." Alyssa turned on her heel, dark blue robe sweeping dramatically behind her and headed for the door with Alistair chasing after her. Zevran watched her with a smile spreading across his face. This magical Grey Warden did not disappoint.

* * *

That arrogant, loathsome ass was insane if she thought for a red hot second Alyssa was going to help her and her demon brat now. The miasma of flames kindled anew around her shoulders, but she was keenly aware of Alistair lumbering behind her. His sword clanked against each step as he chased her down the stairs to the courtyard.

"You can't be serious!" he said.

"I can be anything I damn well please," she kept walking. If he reached for her again, she would have to pull back her rage so he wouldn't get hurt. Irritating. She just wanted to be good and mad for a while, not have big brother hold her and say everything's going to be ok. Alyssa forced herself to calm down, just in case he reached out to her.

"We have to help them. I know you dislike Isolde—"

"Dislike!?" She stopped short and faced him. "What I dislike is getting up before dawn or finding holes in my underwear. This cuts further than dislike. What about how she treated you as a boy? When we met her by the windmill, she looked at you like you were worth less than dirt, and you still want to help this shrew?" Even though she was wound up, the confusion she felt from Alistair's insistence interrupted her anger and caused the flames to vanish.

"Don't do it for her. Do it for Eamon, for Connor, for the men he can supply if he…when he wakes up."

"He's not the only army in Ferelden. We still have the elves, the dwarves, the Circle of Magi, and we can probably scare up most of the people rebelling against Loghain. Nothing is worth this grief."

"For me then? Would you do it for me?"

Alyssa's breath caught. "That's not fair."

"I know, I'm a terrible person," he said. "Please? For me, Alyssa." His head tilted slightly to the side, big brown eyes gazing into hers with a tiny crease at his brow, soft pouting lips, the 'you kicked my puppy' expression and what could she say to that. "Please?"

Alyssa rubbed her face before saying, "Stick it right in my heart, why don't you." A weight settled in her chest, and her shoulders sagged. "Ugh, I know this will come back to bite me in the ass."

"Is that a yes?" He said, coupled with a charming smile.

She nodded. "We'll need help. I hear the Circle of Magi is lovely this time of year."


	8. Camping by Lake Calenhad

Sten and Morrigan were the only two of the team not lounging by the campfire after dinner, mercifully made by Leliana this time. Even Ashfur was with them, serving as a gigantic pillow for Zevran's back. He stretched out his legs and let the warm glow from the fire coax him into a comfortably drowsy state. After that nasty business in Redcliff, Alyssa suggested they take a night off and camp early. With Bodahn's stocks replenished and fresh food and water on hand, there was no reason why they couldn't relax before heading off to the Circle of Magi.

Something was going on between the Chantry Sister and the Mage Warden. Since they finished setting up, the two women had been giggling with each other, and with the dog barking almost nonstop, Zevran's elven ears could only pick up so much. It was right after Alistair joined them that Leliana announced a game they would be playing.

"What are the rules?" Alistair settled himself next to Zevran and across from the two women.

Leliana grinned, "You have the option of choosing to tell the truth about a question asked or perform a challenge."

"But if you hear the question and don't want to answer, you can do the challenge." Alyssa said, "And vice versa."

"But you have to drink," Leliana added.

Alistair's brow creased, "What if the question is no better than the challenge?"

Alyssa said, "You can pass if it's something you don't feel comfortable with."

"But you have to drink," Leliana said.

Alyssa smiled at her and nodded. She continued explaining the rules. "If you go with the question, you have to tell the truth. You don't have to tell everything, but what you say needs to be true."

"Or you drink," Leliana said. By now, her grin reached ear to ear mirrored by the one Zevran was wearing. She seemed unusually bubbly this evening. He wondered if she had a bottle of her own stashed away and how he could relieve her of it.

"The last person to answer or perform a dare gets to pick the next vict— I mean player," Alyssa said. She pursed her lips and looked askance toward the sky, trying her best to look sweet and innocent.

Once again, Leliana reminded them, "And if someone picks you, you drink."

She laughed, "This is gonna go downhill really fast, isn't it?"

"That's the fun of it!"

By the look on Alistair's face, he wasn't convinced, but seeing the two of them so happy, especially after dealing with demons and corpses, forced a smile out of him. Zevran felt the same. It was good to see. "Who came up with this game?" Alistair asked.

Alyssa said, "I played it when I was a kid in this backwater village where dad and I hid for a summer. Leliana added the drinking part."

"That makes it more interesting," Leliana said.

Alistair asked, "What are we going to drink? We're not exactly carrying any alcohol with us." When Zevran started grinning wickedly, his little canines glinting in the firelight, Alistair narrowed his eyes and asked accusingly, "What did you do?"

Zevran reached behind the Mabari and pulled out two dark green clay bottles with cork stoppers, one in each hand. "Since Alyssa so graciously agreed to help Lady Isolde and her boy, and she did offer anything in return for his life, I thought it only fair to 'liberate' a few of the Arl's finest as we made our way out."

"You stole from the Arl!" Alistair tried to grab the bottles from him, but Zevran pulled them out of reach.

"Think of it as a security deposit." The rogue smiled, "Besides, if I wanted anything of value, they did not lack in luxuries, I assure you."

Alistair turned his head to Alyssa, "And you just let him get away with this?"

Leliana chimed in, "You're asking a lot of questions. Have we started playing yet?"

"Alistair, calm down." Alyssa waved at the ex-Templar, "Demons are incredibly distracting. The nobles won't miss a few bottles of wine with an Abomination running about the keep."

"Fine, we'll start playing." Alistair pointed from Zevran to Alyssa and ordered, "Pour her a cup, I want the first question." He scowled while Zevran played barkeep.

Zevran pulled the stopper out, passing the open neck of it under his nose and breathing deeply. He sighed and fluttered his eyelids closed, "Marvelous." Alyssa handed her cup to him, which was generously filled. Settling back against the dog, he watched as Alistair shifted about to sit more comfortably on the ground. Alyssa accepted the cup, grasping it with her palm over the top. It was an odd way to handle it.

When she finished a mouthful of the wine, Alistair asked, "Why did you let Zevran roam free in the castle, taking whatever he pleased?"

Leliana said, "You didn't give her a choice of question or challenge."

Alyssa patted Leliana's knee before answering. "My father had to feed us both. Doing that while trying to hide from the Chantry and the Templars wasn't easy, and the villagers had barely enough to take care of themselves. We traded work for food and shelter. Sometimes there was only one or the other. That meant, when we would come close to a larger town or a market place, dad wasn't above slipping things into his pocket."

"But stealing is wrong!" Alistair insisted.

Zevran watched Alyssa's face as she paused before answering. Truly, her eyes were the window to her soul. He saw several flashes of emotion play out, but with her fellow Warden, the softer approach always seemed to win out. She said, "A lot of things are wrong, but to survive, you do what you have to. I know your Chantry upbringing wasn't a walk in the garden, but I'll bet you never went to bed hungry. And you had a safe place to sleep." She looked away, "Sometimes we do things we're not proud of because it's that or worse."

Zevran looked down at his boots. How different his life would have been if someone had been looking out for him. Maybe he wouldn't have been sold to the Crows, or perhaps he would be dead. Who knew? It was a comforting thought that Alyssa was familiar with some of the harsher sides of life and didn't look down on those who had few options. Perhaps he wasn't in such different company as he had assumed. Zevran approved.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know." Alistair's righteousness had subsided. From the way he couldn't meet her eyes, Zevran assumed that he felt a bit ashamed of what he had said, however, some time spent in the real world would be good for him.

Alyssa shrugged, "I never said anything. How would you? Ok, my turn!" She looked around the camp. "Hey, Morrigan! Why don't you come and join us?"

Morrigan pulled her nose out of a leather-bound tome long enough to roll her eyes at them, "'Tis not a game I find interesting in the least. If you all wish to be childish, do so without me."

"Party pooper." Alyssa looked at each of her companions in turn before settling. "Zevran, question or challenge?"

"I think I will choose the question," he smiled. "It is still early, yes?"

"Drink," Leliana said.

He was ready for this. One of the clay bottles was filled only with water, and it was this one he poured for himself. Zevran was not so eager to let his guard drop in front of the others. He may have been spared for now, but that did 't mean he would be seen as useful in the future. Putting the cup to his lips, Zevran drank deeply.

When he lowered his cup, Alyssa asked her question. "Care to tell us a little about Antiva?"

"Oh? You wish to know about Antiva, do you?" He leaned forward, eyes reflecting the firelight, "The only way to truly appreciate it would be to go there. It is a warm place, not cold and harsh like this Ferelden. In Antiva, it rains often, but the flowers are always in bloom. Or so the saying goes."

"Not a fan of Ferelden, I take it," Alistair smirked.

He inclined his head to the side and shrugged, "It has its charm with its mud and its dogs. The people are spirited, even if they can't tell the difference between an assassin and a mere killer." Zevran smiled broadly, "I hail from the glorious Antiva City, home to the royal palace. It is a glittering gem amidst the sand, my Antiva City." He sighed wistfully as he described the city, conjuring vivid images of winding streets, colorful blossoms spilling out of every window box, and tempting smells of coffee and smoked meats teasing the appetite. A pang of longing filled him, knowing that he could never go back, at least not while the Crows hunted him. "You know what is most odd? We speak of my homeland, and for all its wine and its dark-haired beauties and the Lillo flutes of the minstrels, I miss the leather the most."

Alistair, Leliana, and Alyssa looked at each other with raised eyebrows and bemused expressions. "Ok, I'll bite," Alyssa said, "Is that a euphemism, or what?"

Zevran laughed, "It may as well be! But not this once, no." As he explained, he touched his thumb to his fingers and made a circular motion with his hand, "I mean the smell. For years I lived in a tiny apartment near Antiva City's leather-making district, in a building where the Crows stored their youngest recruits — packed in like crates. I grew accustomed to the stench, even though the humans complained of it constantly. To this day, the smell of fresh leather is what reminds me most of home more than anything else."

The Warden gave him a gentle look, usually reserved for her brother in arms. "You sound a little homesick." He noticed a tenderness to her voice.

"It is my first time away from Antiva. The thought of never returning makes me think of it constantly." He looked into his cup, feeling at ease for the first time in his life. What was the harm in sharing a little more? "Before I left, I was tempted to spend what little coin I possessed on leather boots I spotted in a store window. Finest Antivan leather, perfect craftsmanship. Ah, but I was a fool to leave them." He leaned back on the Mabari.

"What happened?"

"I thought, 'Ah Zevran, you can buy them when you return as a reward for a job well done.' More the fool I, no?" He shouldn't have said so much. Now there was heaviness that he'd preferably push away. Thinking of Antiva had put him in a somber mood of sorts.

"Your home is still there, Zevran. Boots and all." When he looked up from his water masquerading as wine, Alyssa was smiling at him for the first time. She couldn't be so stupid as to let her guard down in front of the man sent to kill her, could she? He must be imagining things. Maybe he pulled the wrong bottle after all.

"True, and it's a comforting thought." Being scrutinized was making him uncomfortable, so he decided to turn the tables, "One simply never knows what is to come next. How could I have suspected I would end up defeated by a beautiful Grey Warden, a woman who then spares my life? I could not."

"Oh, here we go. You can't help yourself, can you?" Alyssa rolled her eyes.

"I say you are beautiful because it is true. Should I not?"

She rubbed the side of her head and couldn't look up from her crossed legs, "Just take your turn already. For cryin' out loud." But she didn't stop smiling.

Zevran pursed his lips in a grin and ultimately let it go. The point was to shift the focus off him, not to make her uncomfortable, at least not unless it behooved him. Although she was rather cute when she was bashful, he decided Leliana would be a better choice for his turn. "Leliana, question or challenge?"

She poured for herself. It was quick, but Zevran's keen eyes caught the action even in the gloom of the night. The sister covered the opening with her thumb, so none of the wine entered her cup. Before answering, she pretended to drink from it though it was empty. Very interesting. What would the Chantry Sister be hiding? She was so enthusiastic about introducing wine to the game in the first place.

"Question, please."

"How long were you in that cloister, my dear woman?"

"Just over two years."

"And…and all the brothers and sisters there, they had taken vows?"

"Most of them, yes. That's two questions already. Don't try to cheat," Leliana wagged a finger at him.

He opened his hands, "I haven't asked anything of substance yet."

Alyssa chimed in, "Well, cut to the chase. You're not allowed to stall."

"Drink," Leliana pointed to his cup.

"What for?"

"Stalling," Leliana and Alyssa said together.

Zevran shook his head but did as he was told. It would be a miracle if he could make it to the end of the game before his bladder burst with all this damn drinking. "So for two years, you had no contact with anyone except men and women who were promised to an uncaring god?"

"What are you getting at?"

"Didn't you…" he stumbled over his words, completely dumbstruck, "didn't you desire companionship during those two years? Two years! The very thought makes me weak."

When she spoke of her time in the Chantry, all the girlish glee left her face, replaced now by the devout sister's demeanor. "My time in the cloister was a time of contemplation. I occupied myself with thoughts of the Maker and other worthy pursuits, but like I said, most of the brothers and sisters had taken vows. Not all of them. Some were just affirmed, like me."

"Ah-ha! That is not so bad then."

"Nothing happened, Zevran. It would not be right to engage in that behavior in the House devoted to the Maker."

"Why?" he asked. "The Maker made us who we are. He made our urges. He gave us these parts. You think he made them for looks?" He wasn't sure that coaxing others to get drunk off their asses was any less of a sin in the Maker's eyes, but if she wanted to lie to herself, that was her business.

"That was the most roundabout way I have ever heard someone ask 'have you been laid recently.'" Alyssa shook her head slowly and chuckled.

Leliana smirked, "Ok, my turn. Um… Alistair! Question or challenge?"

He took a drink from his cup. "Question, please."

Leliana pouted, "This isn't very fun. No one is taking the challenges."

"I don't think we've had enough wine yet," Alyssa said. She was doodling in the dirt with a bit of stick. "Why? What was your challenge?"

"I was going to have him kiss you." At this, Alyssa's eyes flew open even though she didn't look up from her drawing. Zevran heard Alistair gasp in surprise but didn't get a chance to say anything before Leliana continued, "In any case, Alistair, tell me about something embarrassing about yourself."

Now things were getting interesting.

Alistair had to think for a moment before he took a drink from the mug, draining about half of it. "I got one. Remember how we went through the Arl's cellar to get to the keep? When I was a boy, I was playing there. I saw a cage all rusted out and tipped on its side. I climbed into it and pulled the door closed, but I didn't realize it had locked. I spent the whole night and part of the next day in there before they finally found me."

"Oh, you poor dear! Didn't anyone think to look for you?" she said.

"I slept in the stables. I don't think anyone noticed or cared I was missing."

Leliana looked like she wanted to scoot across and sit beside him, but she made no move to rise. Interesting, but not surprising. The Chantry types tended to stick to each other rather easily.

Many questions were asked that night, for no one was courageous enough to take the challenge, except for Zevran. From the way they kept forgetting to offer the choice, he assumed one of two things were in play. They wanted to get to know each other a little better, or they were afraid of what the challenges might be, especially coming from him. However, Alyssa did challenge him to sing 'I'm a Little Tea Pot' along with the dance.

Zevran frowned, "Why is it these challenges never involve doing things with your lips?"

"You'll be singing," Alyssa chuckled. "That's doing things with your lips."

"Not what I had in mind, but have it your way. I'm a little teapot, short and stout…" He was nothing if not a good sport, and the way Alyssa fell over laughing made it all worthwhile. It helped that his emphasis on the words made it sound much dirtier than it should have.

During the game, they drained three bottles of wine, although he and Leliana were using sleight of hand tricks to keep from getting drunk. Zevran was amazed that the little mage was still sober, yet Alistair was clearly feeling the drink from how he slurred his words and gazed over at Leliana. It was Alyssa's turn to ask this time. "Alistair, challenge or question?"

Raising his cup, Alistair said, "I'm choose questing…questionings, please." He giggled into his mug, snorting the wine and tilting to the side where he sat.

Alyssa covered her face with her free hand and laughed, "I can't believe I'm asking this. So you were raised in the Chantry, right? Did you ever…you know?"

A sly grin crept across his face, "Ever? Ever What? Had a good pair of shoes?"

Zevran didn't need light to see that Alyssa was blushing. The smirk, the way she couldn't look at any of them, the apples of her cheeks scrunching so tight her face must have started to hurt. "Oh, come on. You know exactly what I mean," she said.

"I'm not sure I do?" It seemed that Alistair was enjoying making her squirm. Zevran was enjoying it too, very much so. "Have I never seen a basilisk? Ate jellied ham? Have I never licked a lamppost in winter?"

"Stop making fun of me." She and Leliana couldn't stop giggling.

Alistair put his hand to his heart in mock sincerity. "Make fun of you, dear lady, perish the thought." They all laughed. The ex-Templar was very handsome when he let himself relax - strong shoulders, deep warm laugh, and a truly radiant smile. Alistair continued, "Well, tell me. Have you ever licked a lamppost in winter?"

Now everyone was curious to see what their fearless leader was going to say. Zevran's ears pricked up. "Why yes, I've licked a lamppost in winter!" Alyssa finally responded after a moment of stalling. So she wasn't so naive after all. Good to know. Zevran smiled as the game continued.

"Just the once?" Alistair said, "And you didn't lose half of your tongue in the process? I'm impressed." He looked askance for a moment. "I myself have never had the pleasure. Not that I haven't thought of it, of course, but, you know…"

Leliana was gazing over at him, leaning forward over her knees. "Was there no young lady that you fancied?"

He shrugged a little and couldn't look up, "Well, living in the Chantry is not exactly a life for rambunctious boys. They taught me to be a gentleman, especially in the presence of beautiful women, such as yourselves." He indicated Alyssa and Leliana with his cup.

"You," Alistair hesitated, his eyes flicking over to Leliana and then back to the ground, "You'd want a gentleman to court you, I mean if you were to be courted…"

Zevran watched Alyssa's face. He already knew by Leliana's body language that evening that she desired the ex-Templar, but something in the mage's face told him this was not an answer Alyssa wanted to hear. Maybe it was time for another deflection. "So let me get this straight, my dear Alistair," Zevran said, "You have never wooed. Not once? You are woo-less, as it were?"

"You're breaking the rules again, Zevran. Drink," Leliana sighed and narrowed her eyes.

It was the mothering tone that got to him, and considering that she too was cheating, Zevran decided to mention it. "Then you would have to put away a full bottle yourself, my dear. Each time you pour, your thumb finds its way over the opening."

"What?" Alistair sat up straight, his jaw-dropping.

"I… that's not true!"

Zevran grabbed her cup from its place on the ground and upended it, and not a single drop fell out.

Alyssa's eyebrows rose, "Well, that explains a lot."

"You're just as guilty," she said. "You magically remove the alcohol every time Zevran fills your cup." So that's why she took the cup by its top. Clever girl.

"Well, he's been drinking water the whole time!"

Alistair yelled over their squabbling, "So I'm the only idiot here who's actually been playing fair? Are you kidding me?" He got to his feet, swaying dangerously. Had he been wearing anything more substantial than his linen shirt and leather leggings, Alistair would have landed back on his rump in an instant. Alyssa jumped up to steady him, but he batted her hands away. "I expected better from you, you know."

"I'm sorry, Alistair—"

"No, I don't want to hear it," he held up his hand. "I trusted you enough to tell you about my bloodline, and you can't even give me the same courtesy? It's not right, Alyssa."

"Everything I've said tonight was true."

"After sneaking out the strength of the wine. How am I supposed to believe you?"

"Ask me anything. I won't lie. I haven't lied!"

"Why were you on that roof?"

The question hung between the Wardens while Leliana and Zevran exchanged nervous looks. Alyssa stared at the ground, her hands clenching and unclenching. There was no diversion big enough that could get her out of this now unless she flat out refused to answer him. Zevran was surprised when Alyssa passed her cup to him. He filled it, but this time she took it by the sides and drank the contents entirely. Again she held the cup to him, and again she drank it dry. "Sit."

The Wardens sat back down. From the frown and the crease in his brow, Zevran imagined Alistair had burnt out his anger when he saw how much the question affected his sister-in-arms. "Dad and I went Gwaren to refill our medical supplies," Alyssa began, the tightness in her jaw, giving her voice a flat sound. "We never had enough money, so we did it the old fashioned way. I hung about, playing the lost lamb while he cut purses. It was fine until Lord Bennet caught him. He called the city guard." She paused for a moment and took a deep breath, "They beat my father to death in front of me."

Zevran winced. Leliana covered her mouth, and Alistair closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

"When they finally...finished, the guards were dragging me off to the prisons. Bennet stopped them and said they could keep the purse if he could have me." She closed her eyes. Zevran saw her hands start to shake. He wanted to tell her it was ok to stop, but he was so curious about what happened that words failed him.

Alyssa found the strength to continue. "You've seen what happens when I get mad. I have trouble controlling the heat, but that time...that time I was scared, not angry. I said I'd rather die. He just laughed." She motioned to Zevran with her cup, which he filled, never taking his eyes off her. After gulping it down, she continued, "He grabbed my hair, leaned in close enough so I could smell the rotting sweetbreads off his breath and whispered 'The Circle will not have you. You shall live in my cage, little fox, and you'll beg for death before the end of it.'"

"Stop," Alistair said. He was blinking away tears that clouded his eyes. "Don't say anymore."

She gently touched his knee. "I'm sorry. You wanted to know."

"I don't anymore." He pulled her into a hug, ran his fingers through her hair, and kissed the top of her head. "Not unless you tell me that he burst into flames right then and there." A muffled sentence came from her. "What?" he let go.

Alyssa gasped a bit, "I said 'Your shirt is in my mouth.'" They all started chuckling, glad for the release in tension. She rubbed Alistair's arm, "I'm still here. Even after all that. I'm still here."

Zevran sighed contentedly, but the smile soon faded from his face. Alistair had said she was on a roof, which means the lord must have dragged Alyssa back to the estate. Whatever was done to her drove her up there. Did she fall? Was she pushed or had she jumped? He doubted very much that she would tell him anything that sensitive, but the game did do one thing that night. It allowed him to see past the Warden, past the leader and into the woman behind the labels. Maybe getting caught was not so bad, after all.


	9. You Think You Know Someone

The Circle was in chaos and overrun by abominations. Through sheer stubbornness, and nothing short of a miracle, her team managed to kill Uldred and save First Enchanter Irving. Wynne, the mage she had met briefly in King Cailan's camp, had joined them in the tower, which made keeping the party healed much easier. That was all well and good, but the business with Cullen was utterly unnerving.

Irving and the team made it back to the main hall of the tower, where Knight Commander Greagoir was waiting. He seemed genuinely relieved that Irving was alright, and then Cullen had to open his big mouth and cause trouble where there wasn't any.

"Uldred tortured these mages, hoping to break their wills and turn them into abominations. We don't know how many of them have turned." Cullen was practically shouting in the Knight Commander's face.

Irving glared at him, "What? Don't be ridiculous."

"Of course he'll say that! He might be a blood mage! Don't you know what they did? I won't let this happen again! They may have demons within them lying dormant. Lying in wait."

"Don't you think that sounds a little paranoid?" Alyssa said, "You can't just kill every circle mage because you have a hunch."

"Apostates aren't given the same benefit of doubt!" He drew his sword and lunged at her, but before he could lay the killing blow, the sound of metal on metal rang through the hall. Zevran leaped between them and blocked Cullin's sword with his twin daggers. Alyssa stared open-mouthed at the assassin.

"Enough!" the Knight Commander yelled, "Tell your man to stand down!"

Alyssa narrowed her eyes and snarled. "Call off your dog and he will."

Greagoir dug his nails into Cullen's arm and growled low in his ear, "I am the Knight Commander here, not you. Lower your damn sword." Cullen stepped back, and Zevran did likewise but kept himself between the mage and the Templar. "She is a Grey Warden. If you can't show respect, then you damn well better show some iota of intelligence!" The Templar sheathed his sword and stepped back, glaring at the elf and the Warden.

Zevran stood in front of Alyssa, so close she could feel the heat of his body, smell his armor. It smelled like him, oil and warmth, spices and old leather. She curled the fingers of her free hand around his belt. She was shaking, but she didn't want to let the Templar have the satisfaction of seeing her rattled. Feeling the leather under her hands, something stable and strong, grounded her. Alyssa breathed in deeply and felt a calm wash over her.

"Irving," she said, "Arl Eamon's son needs your help. A demon possesses him." Talk about sucking all the air out of the room. The three men stared past Zevran at her, realizing what she was asking.

"Killing the demon would mean killing the child," Irving said. He rubbed his chin. "We may be able to help, but it will take a lot of lyrium and several mages." He nodded, "We will at least try. After all, you did not abandon us when we needed aid."

"I'll also need the mages to help against the blight."

"You will have it."

Wynne said, "Irving, I have a request. I seek to follow the Grey Warden."

"Wynne," he frowned, "we need you here. The Circle needs you."

"I appreciate the sentiment, Irving, but this Circle will do fine without me. This woman is capable of great things, and if she will have me, I will help her accomplish her goals,"

It was with a heavy heart that Irving let her, "You were never one to stay in the tower when there was adventure to be had. I give you leave to follow the Grey Warden, but know that you will always have a place here."

You mean a cage here, Alyssa thought bitterly. The sooner they were rid of this place, the better.

"Thank you, Irving," she said. Wynne nodded to Alyssa and followed her, Zevran, and Sten back to the mainland.

It was only when the boat reached the dock that Alyssa felt like she could breathe without burden. Alistair and the others were waiting for the team to return. He rushed over to her, "Are you alright? You look upset."

She glanced at Zevran, but he made no indication that he heard Alistair. Instead, he started chatting up Wynne, something about a bosom. "Cullen, I don't know if you know him." Alistair shook his head. Alyssa swallowed hard, "He tried to kill me, but Zevran, he…he saved me."

Alistair lowered his chin, "Zevran. Our Zevran?" He pointed to the elf. "That Zevran?"

She nodded.

"Just making sure."

"He jumped between us. I didn't even see it coming." She rubbed her forehead. "It would have been over in seconds. Everything we've been trying to do would have been completely unraveled."

Alistair pushed a tangle from her face, "Are you alright to head back to Redcliffe? We can stay here at the inn if you need to."

She smiled, "I'm fine, Alistair. Thank you. We should press on. I don't want Bann Teagan to wait longer than he has to."

* * *

The team was on the road to Redcliffe when Zevran heard someone call him. "I owe you an apology." Alistair was walking alongside him and smiling. Sten and Morrigan walked ahead of everyone else, Leliana and Wynne behind them, and Alistair, who had hung back to let Zevran catch up. Alyssa was near the back of the pack with Ashfur, Sandal, and Bodahn in tow.

Alistair chatting him up was unexpected. "Me? What for?" Zevran asked.

"For protecting Alyssa. I don't know why you did, but I'm glad of it. I realize now that I underestimated you. I'm sorry."

Under the gaze of this smiling oaf, Zevran felt the heat creep up the back of his neck. He couldn't look Alistair in the eye when he replied, "I owe her a blood debt, and you Wardens are the only things between the Crows and me. It serves me to make sure you live."

"Of course it does."

He wasn't about to let the Warden control this conversation. "You know I could just be trying to impress you, my dear Alistair." Pieces set.

"How'd you mean?"

Rook takes pawn. "A handsome young man like you must stoke the passions of women and men alike."

"I…what?" Alistair's cheeks flushed with color.

Rook takes Bishop. "How do you know that my newfound loyalty isn't some master plan to lure you into my tent some chilly night?"

"Your... your tent?" he stuttered. "You're having me on."

Rook takes Queen. "I might be, I might not be, but I assure you the massage techniques I have learned are enough to alight the desires of even the most chaste of men."

Checkmate.

Alistair blanched, "I, I'm going to stand over here now!" He scurried over to Leliana and Wynne as fast as he could move in all of that armor, which was pretty fast considering.

Zevran rolled his eyes.

"Stop confusing my Warden in tarnished plate-mail."

He turned his head, "My dear Warden," Zevran grinned broadly, surprised at just how glad he was to see her. "I have a question, if I may?" Since Alistair brought it up, Zevran was thinking more about the oath he had sworn to Alyssa and what that meant to her.

Alyssa shrugged, "Sure."

"Well, here's the thing. I swore an oath to serve you, yes? And I understand the quest you're on, and this is all very fine and well. My question pertains to what you intend to do with me - once this business is over with. As a point of curiosity."

"Do with you?" she laughed. "What are you? Luggage?"

"Oh, I imply nothing specific of course. One simply assumes that once your Grey Warden business is finished, you would have no need of an assassin to follow you about. Am I wrong?"

Alyssa cringed, "This whole serving thing, I don't feel comfortable with that."

"What should I call it then?"

"I mean..." She paused. Running her hand through her hair, she sighed heavily, "Look, can we start over?"

The assassin cocked his eyebrow. "Do you want me to try to kill you again? Believe me, I had my fill the first time."

"You're gonna drive me to drink, you know that," Alyssa laughed. "I don't want you swearing an oath to me or anyone. It's enough that I have play pied piper on this ridiculous quest. I can't handle," she gestured with her hand between the two of them, "this as well."

Zevran felt his stomach twist and struggled to keep his face stoic as he stared head, "Do you not wish for me to stay then?"

"I didn't say you have to leave, but don't stay as a slave or a servant."

He looked at her, questions of his fate burning in his chest. "You say that so easily."

"Not everyone operates with ulterior motives, you know," Alyssa said.

He snorted, "Most of my life I have had decisions made for me. Never once have I been my own man, and here you blithely say things like 'do not serve me' and then you treat me as an equal. What am I to think?"

"You can think whatever you want. I'm not your master, mistress, whatever. Do what's best for you."

Ashfur ran between the two of them, hot on the heels of a stick that Sandal had thrown.

He tried to keep the tone out of his voice, but some of his anxiety broke through. "I don't know what that means." She was starting to frustrate him. "You could be telling me to stay or to go, I don't know which." Taking stock, he realized just how many people wanted him dead, and his charm wouldn't be enough to save him. Not only that, he honestly didn't want to leave her company. When that Templar pulled his sword, Zevran didn't think, he just acted. She was starting to make him a different kind of nervous from when they first met. She could be so careless with her trust, and one day it could get her killed. Then where would he be?

She watched Ashfur wrestle the stick to the ground. "If you're going to be with me, then be with me as a friend. Be with me because you want to. That's all."

His ears picked up. Back at the Circle, he had felt her clutching his belt. At first, he thought it was to push him forward if the Templar attacked again, but instead, she had stopped trembling and was pulling him closer to her body. "Do you mean the group or you?"

She smiled when the dog and Sandal started a tug of war over the wood. "Hmm?" Her eyes fluttered. "What did I say?"

"You said, 'be with me.' Three times, in fact." Zevran could feel his heart beating a little harder, holding his breath a little longer, as he waited for an answer.

"Oh. I meant, us, the group." Alyssa turned her head, letting her hair fall in her face so he couldn't see her eyes. "Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about what happened at the tower." He was about to tell her the same thing he told Alistair, but she said, "You asked for mercy on the mages' behalf. I didn't expect that."

"Why because I'm an assassin? I suppose that would be a surprise."

"No, not that." She pushed her hair back from her face, "Wynne, I could understand wanting to save the mages, but I was surprised that Morrigan was fine with killing them, and you argued against that. I thought Morrigan would want them defended. I didn't think you had an opinion either way."

Zevran smirked, "Realizing I'm more than just a pretty face, are we?"

"If you want to be blunt, yes. Have you ever seen the damage that a blood mage can do? It's terrifying. Blood mages can invade your mind to control your thoughts, and they kill as efficiently as I can heal. Stitching Sten up after taking down that sloth demon wasn't easy." The Qunari had taken a nasty hit during the battles in the Fade. Alyssa was able to close the wound and get him back on his feet, even amidst all the chaos. There was blood stained all down her robe, dried and brown against the dark blue. If you died in the Fade, you died in the waking world.

Zevran shrugged, "Lots of things can kill, my dear Warden," he said. "Magic can kill. Knives can kill. Even small children launched at great speed could kill. Why single out the wielders of one and not the others?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head, "I don't even want to know where you got that last example." Alyssa put a hand to her lips, trying to hide a grin. The crinkle by her eyes gave her away.

"Just to seeing if I could get you to smile."

"And?"

"You do not disappoint." She lowered her head, seemingly resigned to giving the assassin what he wanted and not looking too put out for it. "My original point was not disputing the killing or not," Zevran said. "It was to point out that there was no fairness in killing already caged creatures and the seeming biased nature of who should live and who should die. You spared me, after all."

"And it was the best decision I have ever made." Alyssa squeezed his bicep gently.

He frowned at the honesty in her touch. Couldn't she have grabbed his ass and made a lewd comment instead? That at least he could work with, and a good tumble would be most welcome. His mind screamed to back away, yet he didn't want to, even though he'd be doing her no favors by encouraging this reckless behavior.

Zevran slowed to a stop and touched her chin. She allowed him to gently guide her face toward him. "Be careful."

"Of what?"

He was silent for a time, considering the advice he was about to give. "A leader has to be strong and command respect. She who wears her heart on her sleeve risks having it broken."

The moment he said those words, he realized he had misspoken. Alyssa's eyes clouded over, and she pulled away, "Duly noted." She increased her pace until she was walking next to Leliana.

Zevran sighed and shook his head, cursing his clumsy words. He was a liar, a thief, and a murderer and didn't deserve her kindness. None of that made it hurt any less.


	10. The Templar, the Mage, His Rose and Her Assassin

The Circle of Magi was able to help save Arl Eamon's son, the mage Jowan was able to redeem himself, and everyone got to live another day. Ales all around! Alyssa was so sick of Isolde by the time it was done that she wanted to scream. The fool woman was now expecting the Wardens to chase after a fantasy cure that may or may not help heal the Arl. There were no maps, no clues, no idea of where to start, and this well-dressed idiot was insisting that the 'magical' Urn of Sacred Ashes was the only thing that would help. The irony wasn't lost on Alyssa.

After they finally put Redcliffe behind them, she led the team on the road to Denerim, where they heard they could find Brother Genitivi. Since it was on the way, Alyssa made the call to stop at the Brecilian Forest to talk with the Dalish. Two birds, one stone, right? They made camp a few miles out from their destination. Alistair asked to speak with Alyssa in private.

"What's on your mind?"

"Here," he held up a flower, "do you know what this is?"

So many sarcastic lines, so little time. Alyssa smirked, "Your new weapon of choice?"

"Yes, that's right," he gestured as he spoke, "Watch as I thrash our enemies with the mighty power of floral arrangements! Feel my thorns, darkspawn! I will overpower you with my rosy scent!" Alyssa was laughing so hard that the corners of her mouth started to hurt. He waited until she calmed a bit. "Or, you know, it could just be a rose. I know that's pretty dull in comparison."

His face grew a bit more serious, but no less, what was the word? Dreamy? No, that couldn't be it, could it? "You've been thumbing that flower for a while now."

"I picked it in Lothering. I remember thinking, 'How could something so beautiful exist in a place with so much despair and ugliness?'" He shrugged, "I probably should have left it alone, but I couldn't. The darkspawn would come, and their taint would just destroy it. So I've had it ever since."

Alyssa could feel her cheeks tingle with heat. Could this be a mage and a Templar, ok ex-Templar, together as lovers? It wasn't impossible, but it was probably not something that was considered a good thing. A flutter of anticipation started in the pit of her stomach and spread up her chest, making her heart thunder. "And," it was a little hard to breathe, "what did you intend to do with it?" She leaned in closer.

Alistair was looking down at the rose, "I thought I might give it to Leliana. In a lot of ways, I think the same thing when I look at her."

Ice water would have been kinder. "Oh. Right." Alyssa smiled weakly and took a small step back.

"I just don't know what to say to her," he hadn't even noticed Alyssa's reaction because he was still looking at the damn flower. "You're a woman, right? I thought you might be able to give me some ideas."

She sighed, "Yeah, first off, everything you said to me about the flower? Say that to her. Next, don't ask if she's a woman. Tends to spoil the mood."

"Oh, no, I didn't mean that!"

"Alistair," Alyssa pinched the bridge of her nose for a moment, but then softened her expression. Not a mind reader, remember? Just a man. She smiled and patted his arm, "Go get her." As he trotted off to the other side of the clearing, she muttered to herself, "Don't have time for crap like that anyway…"

She heard someone swearing by the fire pit and decided to investigate.

* * *

As the rest of the group was setting up their tents, Zevran crouched close to the fire pit, trying desperately to coax a flame from the tinder. He struck the flints repeatedly over the wood shavings, willing them to ignite. The Ferelden cold was getting to him. Goosebumps covered his bare arms, and he couldn't shake the chill from his bones even under the furs in his tent. Being without companionship for more nights than he was willing to count did nothing to improve his mood. He prayed that they would make it to Denerim soon. At least The Pearl was there, and he could make up some pretense to get a few extra coins out of the Wardens. Another round of strikes failed to light. Zevran slammed the flints at his feet, swearing loudly.

Alyssa stood over him, "Need a hand?"

"What I need is a damn fire," he said with a clenched jaw. The elf stood up, rubbing his bare arms to get his circulation going. "I don't know how you stand this constant freeze."

Alyssa curled her hand into a fist, tucking her thumb inside. She flicked her thumb from her fist until a small red flame danced on top of it. After a few moments of fussing with the tinder, a cheerfully crackling fire warmed their legs. "You might want to think about reevaluating your wardrobe." She tugged on his shoulder guards, drawing attention to the sleeveless shirt underneath. "Take it off."

Zevran's eyebrows shot up, followed by a toothy grin. "No dinner? Flowers? Gifts of lethal poison? Ha! You spoil me." When he stepped closer to her, the Warden stopped him with two fingers pressed against his chest.

"Don't make me hurt you."

"I like where this is going."

Alyssa blustered, turning a bit pink at the cheeks. "Just the chest plate. Keep your sodding shirt on."

All work and no play was the Grey Warden before him. Still, Zevran caught the little smile that tugged at the corner of her lips. The assassin decided to have a little fun and maybe end up redeeming his ill-chosen words from their trek out of Redcliffe.

Zevran turned his head toward his right shoulder, letting his blond hair spill over his left. He ran the pads of his fingers lightly up his bare tanned skin and under the shoulder guard to loosen the buckle with his left hand. He glanced up at her under his long lashes, noticing how her throat flashed as she averted her gaze from his eyes to his chest. She rubbed the side of her temple with one hand and placed the other on her hip, still unable to look at his face. Bringing his right hand slowly up the side of his body, Zevran unbuckled the last of the straps holding the armor to his chest. He pushed the armor off his shoulder and guided it to the ground to soften the thud as it fell. The assassin stood before her, head slightly tilted to the side, golden eyes running the length of her body, chest raised.

Alyssa blinked. "'Bout time." She stepped toward him and clapped him hard on the shoulders. A little 'oof' of surprise escaped him. A flash of white light sparked from her hands. The mage ran her fingers from his shoulders and down his arms magically stretching the black cotton cloth of his tunic. At his wrists, Alyssa finished off the shirt in Orlesian style cuffs with gold buttons, "Done."

Zevran looked down at his arms, "Very impressive." He shook his wrists and smiled. "I love the detail."

"I thought you might." A grin spread across her face, and for once, he didn't see her struggle to hide it.

"It's good to see you smile," he said. "If I had it my way, it would happen more often. Seeing those pink lips bloom in joy instead of scowling in frustration," he stepped closer, brushing the back of his fingers across her cheek. "I wonder. How would my name sound dancing on your tongue, leaving your mouth in a moan of ecstasy?" Whenever he used this tactic, a deep blush or a passionate kiss always followed. He breathed in her scent, honeysuckle, and pinesap, so different from the mud and garbage they were surrounded by in Redcliffe.

The Warden smirked. "You're so full of crap."

The assassin grinned back. Zevran noticed Alyssa hadn't pushed his hand away. She may even be leaning into him a little. "Ah, your lips say 'no,' but your eyes say 'yes!'" He loved the fire in her. When she was angry, he loved the fire around her. She could be so dangerous if she just let go, but the woman was always in control. It was intoxicating. And, he thought ruefully, it very had been a long time for him.

"I'll remember that when you're bleeding out in my tent and your lips say 'ouch' as your eyes say 'oh shit!'"

Zevran chuckled. "At least I'll have made it into your tent."

"Forever the optimist," her smile faded when a squeak from Leliana across the camp sounded out. Alyssa made a 'tsk' sound with her tongue.

Damn. He was on a roll, too. Ah well. Zevran said, "I take it that Alistair finally spoke to Leliana."

"Yeah," she said flatly.

Of course. The knight in shining armor thing was always popular. "I'm sorry."

Alyssa tilted her head to the side and squinted one eye, "I don't think I am, though."

"Why not?"

"Alistair is," she paused, trying to pick the right words. "His moral compass points True North. Even if doing the right thing, ends up hurting him or someone he cares about, he would still do it. If I'm going to be with someone, I only have one rule."

Zevran smiled wide, not able to resist, "The safety word is 'Mabari'?" He gently clenched the tip of his tongue between his teeth for a moment.

"No." Then it hit her. Alyssa roared with laughter, and tears formed at the corner of her eyes. The others at camp started staring at her, but she waved them off, her laughter finally dying down. "Sweet Andraste…"

He was rather proud of himself, "So what is your one rule, my dear lady? I remind you that I am very good at following orders." He winked.

Alyssa said, "I am your Goddess. Worship no one before me." She pointed at Leliana and Alistair, "The two of them already have me in second place from all that Chantry bullshit."

Zevran tucked the curls on the side of her face behind her ear and brushed his thumb lightly over her bottom lip, whispering, "What fools these mortals be." Her pupils dilated until her eyes looked almost like black pearls. He heard her breath hitch, but just as he was moving in to taste her lips, Zevran swept the legs out from under her. Arrows zipped out from the tree line and peppered the camp sending everyone for cover. "Alistair! Sten!" Zevran called out as he shielded her body, curled under him on the ground. Both warriors were already charging in, batting away the arrows with their swords and shield. The camp flooded with fierce elven archers, clad in embroidered leathers, and wielding daggers and longbows.

The Dalish had found them.


	11. Over Hill & Over Dale

The Wardens and their companions hadn't realized just how close they were to the Dalish until they arrived under heavy guard at the Dalish base camp. The hunters were not gentle to any of them, not even Zevran, although it didn't start that way. The second he stood up from shielding Alyssa, his daggers were out and held to the neck of one of the assailants. A female elf with elaborate tattoos on her scowling face had approached Zevran and the hunter he had at knifepoint. "You're under no obligation to protect the shemlen, brother. You are free now to do as you will."

"Then I will guard her until my last breath if you don't mind," he said. After that, he was treated like the rest of them, relieved of his weapons, and separated from his teammates. The same elf that spoke to him appeared to be the leader of the Dalish hunting party. She had the Wardens and their companions walk single file, two elves to each prisoner, deep into the forest. At least they weren't tied up or blindfolded, but they were clearly not free to leave.

As far as being captive goes, it wasn't such an ordeal. However, one of the young hunters who took a sick interest in Alyssa, following her too closely and whispering poisoned words in her ear. He was tall with long black braided hair and dressed in green leathers. Zevran had tried to stay as near as possible, but the guards and the narrow path through the trees made it difficult. He could intervene if things got ugly; however, it would be quiet challenging, and he might get killed in the process. Then what good was he to her? Zevran's sharp ears picked up the conversation if you wanted to call it that. The more he heard, the more he wanted to slit the bastard's throat.

"I once cut up a pretty shem girl like you," the dark-haired Dalish said. "It took three days for her to die, but I was feeling compassionate. I could have made it last much longer. Would you like that, sweetness?" He kept stride with her, "Would you like to feel my blade in you?"

The Warden kept her face forward, not so much as glancing at the hunter. Her voice was steady as she replied. "Is that your way of offering a little prick?" She made sure to emphasize 'little.'

His pursed his lips, the corner of his mouth twitching upward, "You're a healer. I could tell from the magic you used to help your friend." He thrust his chin in Zevran's direction. "Some of our healers can regenerate themselves. I swear their wounds don't even bleed. Can you do that?"

"Five seconds per square inch."

The hunter started running his fingers up and down the blades of his sheathed daggers. It was a slow sensual motion, caressing it like a lover like it was part of him. He smiled, gliding the tip of his tongue across his lips, "I could drag you out for weeks."

Zevran felt the hackles rise on the back of his neck.

"I wouldn't suggest it." All Zevran saw was her back because of the line they were in, but he could still hear her voice. She sounded bored. "You'd be dead in twenty seconds after I popped your lungs in your chest unless the shock kills you first. Makes it hard to do much when you're choking on a gurgling rush of blood."

"I don't need to be close to you to kill you."

Alyssa slowly turned to the hunter. She drew her eyes to his face, cold dark slits, and whispered, "Neither do I."

Zevran felt a coil of heat tighten below his stomach, sending a bolt of pleasure up his spine. The way she carried on sometimes, it was enough to make him blush. Imagine what she could do with some restraints and a studded leather corset. That mental picture wasn't helping, but oh Maker, he would be saving that for later.

Eventually, they were brought directly to the Keeper when they entered the camp. By some miracle, Alistair was able to convince the guard leader that they were, in fact, Grey Wardens seeking the aid of the Dalish. The assassin leaned against one of the aravels with Ashfur at his feet snoring softly while both Wardens spoke with Keeper Zathrian. The Keeper was giving them a hard time, but at least he wasn't as forceful as the escort. Zevran only caught pieces of the conversation, something about werewolves and disease, or whatever. Couldn't she wiggle her fingers and be done with it? The dark-haired elf that harassed her was still lingering.

Alyssa approached her team. "I'm going to need the heavy hitters for this one. Sten, Alistair, Morrigan, the rest of you can relax for a while until we return. I'm not sure how long this will take, so I'd like to get moving soon. Navigating the forest at night doesn't fill me with girlish glee."

When the recon team headed for the weapons master to load up on supplies, Zevran lightly touched Alyssa's shoulder to get her attention, "You're leaving me behind?" He didn't mean for it to sound, well, pathetic, but he couldn't calm his nerves.

"Actually, I need you here," she pulled him off to the side, out of range of her team and as many hunters that were visible. She spoke low and close to his ear. "I need you to do some listening for me while we're gone. Zathrian isn't telling us everything. If we're walking into a trap, you'll have to bring Leliana and Wynne into the forest to find us."

"I understand, but—"

"Please, Zev, I need you to do this for me. They won't open up to a shem, but they might talk to you."

"You're being very foolish," he said. He whispered, "I don't like the thought of you traveling a dark forest with that culero following you." As if merely mentioning the hunter would summon him, Zevran's hands slid to his daggers' hilts.

She laughed, "What am I supposed to do? Leave? We have work here."

"Take me with you. All the time I have been in your company, I've never seen you cast an attack spell or seen you kill anything. I'm starting to wonder if you can protect yourself at all."

Alyssa narrowed her eyes at him and raised her voice, "I did just fine before you. Don't speak to me as if I'm some helpless little girl!"

Zevran clenched his teeth, "I wouldn't if you would learn to fight."

"I know how to fight. Don't forget who kicked your ass."

"The dog." Before she even thought about pulling rank, he said, "Think about where you are before you bring up anything that followed." Alyssa looked away from him. The grip she had on her staff made her knuckles turn white. Zevran didn't care. "You know I'm right about this, and if you refuse to protect yourself, then you better get used to being treated as a little girl. You are a Grey Warden. You're supposed to be a killer."

He was surprised to suddenly see her expression soften and the death grip on her staff easing. "Why are you so afraid for me?"

He knew that look. If Alyssa thought for one moment that she was more to him than a means to an end...well, it was absurd. Wasn't it? "If you die, I die. My fate is tied up in yours for the time being. You don't honestly think that Alistair will keep me safe from the Crows if something happens to you, do you?"

"Yes, I do."

"Then he is just as stupid as you are." He waved her off, crossing his arms.

The apples of her cheeks turned a delightful shade of pink when she smiled and bit her lip. Zevran did his best not to notice and even went so far as turning his head, but when Alyssa brushed her hand against his cheek, his resolve waned. "I'll come back. I promise."

He swallowed hard but nodded all the same. "Alys—… Warden," he hesitated, looking into her brown eyes, "every one of these hunters knows the forest as if it was part of them. Please be on your guard always." She saw his concern. She must have.

"I will."

Arms still crossed and frowning, Zevran watched her, and the others enter the Brecilian Forest until she turned a corner and vanished from sight. A wistful sigh came from behind him. "She's certainly something, isn't she?" The dark-haired elf had joined Zevran in watching the Wardens head into the forest. "Is she yours?"

"Hardly," Zevran snorted. "I'm here because the pay is good. Otherwise, I wouldn't be caught dead with this band of merry fools. You, on the other hand," he let his eyes wander up the young Dalish's form, "seem very capable, and not foolish in any way."

"I'm sorry for the show of force earlier, brother," he smiled and introduced himself. "My name is Dassan."

"Zevran." They clasped hands, "Very charmed to meet you, brother." Zevran brushed his thumb along the back of Dassan's gloved hand. In the brief moment he had, the assassin studied him. Thin ink lines formed a leafless tree tattoo over the elf's entire face, framing his blue eyes and thin lips. His cheekbones were high and defined, flattering his square jaw.

All in all, he was a very handsome fellow. Tall, lithe, black hair in a long braid reaching to his waist, strong lean arms and skin the color of cream all wrapped in beautiful dark green and brown leather armor. Zevran held his hand a moment longer than was proper.

Dassan lowered his lashes and smiled. "Your accent. You're not from around here, are you?"

"I hail from Antiva, originally."

"So far from here? What brought you to Ferelden?"

"The promise of money, glory, and a favor for a friend."

The hunter tilted his head, "What kind of favor?"

He rolled his eyes. "A close friend was in love with tales of the Grey Wardens, but too cowardly to leave Antiva by himself. You know how it goes." Dassan smiled and nodded. Zevran continued, "His ceaseless researching paid off when he heard of the Ferelden Wardens mounting an attack at Ostagar. After weeks of begging and pleading, which was completely unbecoming, I said I would travel with him. As you no doubt heard, it didn't end well." He hooked a thumb at the direction of the forest entrance. "I woke up with that simpering wench hanging over me, being lectured about the finer points of dodging arrows."

"Not your type, is she?"

"I'm not paid nearly enough, my friend." He rested his hands on the hilts of his daggers. "She insists on helping every sob story we come across. Not to dismiss your troubles. Frankly, this is the first worthy cause we've yet discovered." The Crow training was not so far from memory. It was familiar. He found the seduction flow effortlessly from his body language, the lies steady from his lips. The hunter may be as sly as Zevran, but there was one thing that he wanted, just like everyone else: attention.

"So she makes the decisions? Not the big shem and the giant?"

"As a rule, they look to her. Shemlen." He shrugged. "They don't have Keepers to guide them, so they follow the first strong arm and big mouth that they meet. It's a shame your tribe is having the trouble it is, and yet I'm sure your Keeper has done everything he can." It was slight, but Zevran saw how Dassan shifted his eyes away, his smile faltering. He tilted his head, "Is something the matter, brother?"

"I shouldn't speak to an outsider..." Dassan narrowed his eyes.

Zevran leaned in close, "I can think of many things to do other than speak."

The Dalish elf grinned, showing his sharp canine teeth. "Follow me. I know just the place." He took Zevran by the hand and guided him to the opposite end of the camp. A small overgrown path led from the camp to a different forest entrance. Zevran hesitated, "Didn't your Keeper forbid you to go into the forest?"

Dassan said, "It's ok. No one else knows about this."

"I didn't know the Dalish made a habit of hiding secrets from their Keeper."

"Oh, sweet brother," he said, a bemused smile on his face, "you have no idea how many secrets our Keeper holds for himself." He motioned for Zevran to follow. The assassin it seemed was not the only one who wore the cloak of the deceiver well.

They strolled through the ancient trees, among the dappled sunlight with vibrant green moss underfoot silencing their steps. Dassan rarely had to look down to guide his feet. Instead, he kept glancing at Zevran, smiling when the assassin looked up in awe at the canopy overhead. He kissed Zevran's knuckles, holding his gaze with an icy blue stare. A chill swept through him, looking into those cold eyes, seeing no mirth at all. This Dalish was no Crow, but they would have paid a king's ransom to have him.

Smells of wildflowers and good earth mingled with wisps of crisp air winding through the whole of the forest. The hunter guided him across a trail of large stones nestled in a river that flowed from a lazy waterfall, tucked in between a rocky hillside. He watched the water tumble and sparkle in the sun, crystal clear. Hot breath near his ear startled him, and he had to force a moan when Dassan dragged his tongue across Zevran's bare neck.

"What do you think?" Dassan asked.

"Your forest is beautiful," he said. "So full of life and light. It makes the city seem like a tarnished tea set."

The hunter sucked on his teeth as he looked up and down Zevran's body, "And what does that make you, city brother?" He didn't blink. The whole time they were together, he might have blinked twice. Under his constant stare, Zevran felt exposed, but damn it if he let this creep know.

"A diamond in the rough."

A smile that didn't reach his eyes played on Dassan's face, "We're almost there."

Zevran kept close to the hunter, wondering how far into the woods they were traveling. They started to pass ruined archways and fallen trees. Headstones jutted out of the strangest places, cracked and worn. Just before he was going to ask how much further, Dassan stopped. They were on a small hill overlooking an abandoned campsite clearing. The hill was tucked in among a thick tree line choked with underbrush and vines. One of the trees formed a v shape with its branches and in the crook, rested a heavy crossbow. A trap, obviously, but for what?

Dassan put a firm hand on Zevran's chest and backed him up against the tree. A smile curled his lips, "You're beautiful. But you know that."

"I do."

Zevran felt his stomach lurch when the hunter traced his fingers lightly down the three dark lines that rode his face. It used to be easier. Seduction was one of his favorite techniques, but something was wrong. There was fear backing it, taking away his control, making him slave instead of master. He looked deeply into Dassan's blue eyes. They were wide, dilated, and held lust for dominance. Zevran leaned forward to kiss the hunter, trying to gain some ground but was pushed back firmly against the tree. "Shhh," Dassan whispered, "has it been so long, brother?"

He nodded. Keep him distracted. At least he was away from Alyssa. At least here, the Dalish elf could do her no harm. Why did that matter so much?

Dassan crushed Zevran's lips under his. He bit his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood and a grunt from the assassin. "The Keeper left out a few things when he spoke to your shem leader."

"Lethal information, I hope?" Zevran grinned. Perfect.

"Unfortunately, no," Dassan sneered. "What he didn't mention was how the werewolves came to be." Zevran cocked his head to the side and waited. "Keeper Zathrian summoned a spirit of the forest to seek vengeance against a human tribe that killed children. The spirit murdered many of the tribe and turned the rest into the beasts your friends now seek. They have since regained their power of thought and are not so mindless."

Not a trap, just a lie. Morrigan, Sten, and Alistair should have no problem cutting down the werewolves. At least it was good news. Zevran smiled, "I don't think it makes much difference, save to give her a crisis of conscience."

Dassan pressed against him once more, kissing down his neck, running his hands up his legs and under his leather skirt. There was no warmth about this elf. When he touched Zevran, it was as if he were examining him, like a bug with its wings about to be pulled off. There was emptiness in his eyes. During contracts, if intimacy could be leveraged, the assassin never aimed to make the victim feel like a victim. It was not his way. They came to his bed willingly or not at all.

Zevran had to force his body to react. He thought of an Antivan dancer he had the pleasure of knowing. They had spent a wild summer together, making love, drinking wine until she left for Orlais to be a courtesan. He held on to the memory of her long legs, unbound red hair, and slender fingers. It served well in tricking the Dalish, stirring a soft chuckle deep in his chest.

"Have you guessed yet why we're here, brother?" the hunter asked.

"Not just for a tumble, I take it?" Zevran's smirk vanished when he heard fighting and Alyssa's voice from just down the hill.

"You know how shemlen are," Dassan said, reaching up to the crossbow and slipping a bolt in the chamber. "They stick together. They kill elves." He guided Zevran's hands between his legs until the assassin was grasping the hunter's manhood. He moved his hips until Zevran took over the motion on his own. "She won't have the chance to help the wolves murder our people." He moaned low in his chest and adjusted the site on the crossbow.

While Dassan was lost to the assassin's ministrations, Zevran unsheathed one of his daggers. He waited.

The hunter thrust his hips rhythmically and aimed. "This will be the biggest prick that little girl will ever have."

Zevran plunged the dagger under the hunter's armor and deep into his gut, pulling upward. Dassan's hand spasmed, firing the bolt but sending it slightly off course. He hoped it was enough to miss the target. There was no time to hang around, not with a body to hide and blood to clean off his armor. He cut off the elf's braid and pinned it to the tree with a carving knife he grabbed off the body. Let them blame the werewolves for that. The moss underfoot once again silenced his steps as he dragged the dead elf through the undergrowth.

* * *

Morrigan looked about the clearing. A trap. She should have known from the magic laced about the fire and the tents. It was powerful magic indeed to trip her keen senses. It brought some comfort that Alyssa was also unaware of the danger, though that would have been no condolence if they had perished.

"Of course there was a shadow monster," Alyssa grumbled, "Why not? Trigger happy elves, darkspawn, giant killer trees, werewolves, an insane old fart, and now a shadow monster. What more could a girl ask for?"

Alistair said, "A scorecard?" He shouldered his shield and straightened his hair. He was always fussing with his hair, that dim-witted twit.

"Sure, why the hell not," she dusted off her robes. "Everyone still in one piece?"

"That creature preyed on travelers who camped here," Morrigan said. She frowned and looked about the clearing. "I do not sense anything else. No more should fall victim." She shuddered. They could not be rid of this forest soon enough. If the Wardens didn't need extra troops, the witch would have advised leaving at once. It felt like there were eyes everywhere, and it wasn't the first time she thought they were being followed.

"There is a lockbox here," Sten said as he sheathed his sword.

"Crack it open, we might as well—" Alyssa made a wet, choking sound as a crossbow bolt lodged itself in her chest and protruded out the back. Sten vanished into the trees to find the one who fired it. Alistair stood in front of Alyssa, his shield raised in defense against any that might follow. She clutched the bolt with both hands as blood started to seep through her robes.

"Warden, listen to me very carefully," Morrigan spoke clearly and as calmly as she could, fighting the tremor in her voice. "Nod or shake your head. Did it hit your heart?"

Alyssa shook her head. Dark red blood was oozing from the wound with a warm sticky smell.

"An artery?"

She shook her head. Her face was starting to turn blue, and a raspy, hollow sound came from her chest as she tried to breathe.

"Your lung?"

She nodded.

Morrigan turned her head and swore. "Can you heal the tissue around it?"

She nodded again.

"Do that. Alistair, when Alyssa heals herself, pull out the bolt."

"Are you insane?" Alistair yelped. "She'll suffocate."

"Shut up, you stupid fool! Do you want her to live or not?"

His brow started to sweat. There was no follow up shot since the first, so Alistair slowly lowered his shield.

Morrigan swallowed hard. "Nod when you have healed as much as you can. Alistair will pull out the arrow, and I will cast another spell to stem the bleeding." Wynne should have been here. Morrigan knew precious little of healing, but if Alyssa would just face reality and learn some aggressive spells she wouldn't have ended up like this.

Seconds stretched into minutes as a dim green light surrounded Alyssa's torso easing into her flesh. Morrigan pulled a small blade from her belt and carefully cut off the metal tip. It was slow going, but when it finally fell to the ground, she charged a healing spell. "Now, Alistair!"

Alistair pulled. Spit foam and blood exploded out of Alyssa's mouth and down her front. Morrigan sent a surge of healing energy into the mage to halt the flow of blood long enough for Alyssa's body to regenerate the pierced lung. The Warden fell to her knees, clutching her chest and gasping for air while Alistair and Morrigan hovered over her. After a few moments, Alyssa was able to breathe more freely.

Morrigan shouted at her, "This would not have happened if you would have just accepted my offer!"

"No," Alyssa's voice was raw. "I can't do that."

"What you cannot do is die before your quest even begins," she glared at the Warden. "I've never heard of any mage who refused to learn even the most basic attack spells. You wreath yourself in flames when angered, so I know you are capable of force."

"My mother taught me to heal, not harm."

"Your mother is dead because of it."

A tense silence filled the clearing. Alistair looked from one woman to the other but said nothing. At least the idiot knew when to stay out of things. "Wardens fight the darkspawn," Morrigan said. "They do not ask them nicely to please stop blighting the lands. What are you going to do when you face the archdemon? Run and hope for the best?"

Alyssa couldn't look up at her. She pulled her knees as close to her chest as she could without wincing and kept her eyes focused on the ground.

"I know you did not choose this life," Morrigan's voice was gentler this time. "Often, we do not get a choice. That does not mean one should be foolish. You have weapons at your fingertips, use them."

Alistair stepped forward. Morrigan wondered how much of his foot he would be able to stick in his mouth. "Alyssa," he said, kneeling in front of her, "you know Morrigan and I agree on nothing, but…she has a point." The witch blinked several times in surprise. Alyssa raised her face to him. "Yes, I know," he smiled, "I thought I was dreaming too. She's right. Look at how many times you've been vulnerable. The tower, the camp, and now."

Sten arrived back at the clearing, interrupting the moment. "There was no marksman. Only this pinned to a tree." He held up a long black braid.

She looked up at the hair hanging from the Qunari's hand and shook her head. "Son of a bitch…"

* * *

When the team returned to the Dalish camp, Zevran could tell that Alyssa's temper was worn out. She was pale and covered in blood all down her left side. He cursed under his breath when he saw the hole in her robes.

The exhaustion and irritation were evident in her voice, "Your Keeper is dead, the werewolves are gone, and your people saved. I want my damn troops now." The new Keeper, Lanaya, stared at her open-mouthed. Alyssa narrowed her eyes, "It's been a very long day. Do I get my troops or not?"

"Lanaya!" Three of the hunters came running towards Keeper Lanaya.

She held up her hand and said sadly, "It is Keeper Lanaya. I'm afraid Keeper Zathrian is lost..."

They exchanged concerned glances until one of the three stepped forward with a broken bow in his hands. "Something happened to Dassan. He's been missing for hours."

"Warden, have you seen Dassan in the forest?" the Keeper asked, "He is a little taller than you are with a long dark braid."

"I didn't see any Dalish, but there were plenty of werewolves that attacked us." She shoved the braid into the Keeper's hand.

A second hunter stepped forward, "Was there no way to save him?"

"No."

Zevran appeared by her side. "Warden, we must move on to Denerim as quickly as possible. I am worried that your injuries will need more attention than any here can give." A flimsy excuse, but he wanted to get as far away from the Dalish as possible.

Keeper Lanaya said, "We will mourn those we have lost today, but you will have your troops, Warden. The Dalish will march to war."

"Thank you, Keeper," Alyssa nodded.

* * *

When the team arrived back to their campsite on the edge of the forest, Alistair was the first to speak, "I say we pack our gear and put as much distance between us and this place as possible."

"No," Wynne said, "Alyssa needs to rest. She's lost too much blood from the attack. Pushing through to fight werewolves, what were you thinking?"

He sighed, "I begged her to go back, but she refused to leave. What was I supposed to do? Knock her out and drag her to camp?"

Alyssa slunk off to her tent with her staff dragging in the dirt while they continued to bicker. Zevran was worried. Dark circles rimmed the Warden's eyes, and she moved weakly from the blood loss. He should have been quicker. He should have—

"Ouch!" He felt a sharp pain in his ankle and looked down to see Ashfur wiggling his butt in the air. "Did you just nip me?"

"Arf!"

"Why did you nip me? Is it time for your dinner, because now I'm less inclined to feed you, little brute."

Ashfur whined and turned his head toward Alyssa's tent, then back to Zevran, "Arf!"

"She wants to see me?"

Ashfur nodded.

He narrowed his eyes at the dog. "You really are too smart for your own good, do you know that?"

The happy pant that followed confirmed it until a butterfly floated past the Mabari's field of vision. Ashfur chased after it.

Zevran softly called to Alyssa before entering her tent. When he pulled back the flap, he saw the mage lying on her uninjured side wincing. Her breath came in shallow gasps, and from the way she kept squirming around, it was obvious she couldn't get comfortable. "Shall I call for Wynne?"

"You do, and I'll set your ass on fire," she struggled to sit up. "I'm tired of being fussed over, yelled at, argued with… I want— Maker, this hurts."

Zevran moved quickly. Lifting her upper body as gently as he could, he slipped in behind her using the pillows and a knapsack to prop up his back. She tried to sit up, "No! Don't!" The severity of the wound prevented her from pushing away even though she tried.

"Alyssa, stop! I'm not trying to hurt you." Zevran cradled her gently. "Don't worry, cara. Does your wound hurt so much? I can shift about if that will help, but trust me just this once, please." He ran his fingers through her hair until she calmed enough to stop thrashing about.

"Just promise you won't touch my back," she pleaded, shaking in his arms. There were tears at the corners of her eyes.

"I swear." Even after he promised, she still didn't rest her full weight on him until a few minutes passed. "Cara?"

"Mm, hmm?"

"If you have the power to dull pain, why do you not do this for yourself?" He massaged her temples with his delicate fingers, feeling her sink into him.

"The pain is too distracting. When it hurts this much, I can't concentrate enough to dull it." While she spoke, Zevran could hear the tension leaving her voice and feel her relax in his arms a bit more.

He said, "Well then, it is a good thing you sent Ashfur to 'fetch' me." He curled and uncurled his short nails against the sides of her neck with a feather-light touch, smiling as she shivered.

She murmured, "I didn't send…oh, Zev, that feels amazing."

The dog was a genius. Zevran was already making a list in his head of all the different treats he was going to buy for Ashfur when they reached Denerim. "Would you like to change into something more…uniform in color?"

She said wryly, "What? You don't think blood spatter sets off my eyes?"

"When I have such a gift at my fingertips, the urge to unwrap it is overwhelming." He brushed his cheek against the top of her head and chuckled softly. "You should see me at Saturnalia. I'm fit to be 'tied.'" Nuzzling her hair, he breathed her in deeply. The scent of her, honeysuckle and pinesap, stirred his desire. He enjoyed letting the heat play up and down his body, feeling it fill his chest.

"Oh! I have something for you," she needed Zevran's help to sit up so she could rummage through her pockets. When she found what she was looking for, Alyssa reclined against him, handing back a pair of dark green leather gloves.

"Gloves? You're giving me gloves? What for?"

"Take a closer look," she smiled. "And don't stop doing that thing with your fingers. Warden's orders or some bullshit like that."

He smirked. The gloves were marvelous craftsmanship. Merely passing his thumb over the leather told him of the superior quality, and examining the exquisite tailoring of the embroidery affirmed their elegant design. Something was familiar about them. A memory clicked in his mind, "Maker's breath! These are like my mother's!"

"I was hoping you'd say that."

"The leather was less thick, and it had more embroidery, but these are very close." He slipped them on, "And quite handsome." They were made in such a way as to leave the fingers bare. Good for archers, excellent for pickpockets.

Alyssa was starting to doze off, but she was still grinning, "You're welcome."

"Do I seem surprised?" He murmured, "Perhaps I am." Zevran ran his nails through her hair and against her scalp to send tingling sensations through her body. From the way she shivered, he knew he was doing it right. "Still, I appreciate the fact that you even thought of me. No one has simply…given me a gift before." He looked down at her. With her eyes still closed, she couldn't see the tenderness in his face. A weight in his chest had lifted. He had felt it for so long that he had forgotten how heavy it made him. Now a lovely enchantress was lying in his arms, his hands tangled in her hair, and whatever spell she was weaving, he hoped it would never break.

"More to the left…oh sweet Andraste, bride of the Maker."

Zevran rubbed the space behind her ears, watching her arch her back and listening to her contented sighs. The Crow training screamed in the back of his mind. 'Slit her throat from ear to ear. Quickly, while she's distracted. One slice and you can go home.' To what? An empty room, a gilded cage, and cruel master. Yes, very appealing, he'd get right on that.

It wasn't the only fear that tried to fight through. He was a whore, if not in a brothel, then certainly for the Crows. How many had he bedded at this point? Was he even still in the double digits? She had never asked about that, but what if the subject came up? He had no idea if he would lie or tell the truth. If he was truthful, she might turn him away, but if he lied and she found out the result would be the same. Zevran's face fell, and it was difficult to swallow without feeling a dull ache in his throat.

"Stop blaming yourself."

"Sorry?" His unpleasant thoughts were interrupted, for now.

Alyssa shifted her body slowly, without wincing once. The massage seemed to have done its job and given her enough pleasure to override the pain. "You were right about my need to learn to fight," she looked up at him. "Morrigan was able to help me, but only just. She said she would teach me."

He sighed with relief, "Good. I don't understand why you waited so long."

Alyssa lowered her eyes. "Fear. I was afraid I'd lose control. Hurt someone. Hurt me."

"If you cannot rise to be a Grey Warden, many will be hurt, including you."

"I know," she said. "If you hadn't interrupted that Dalish archer, the bolt would have ripped right through my heart. It would have collapsed before my body healed it."

The assassin looked away. "I don't know what you mean. You said, 'stay at the camp,' so I did."

"That's twice you've saved my life," she smirked. "People are going to start gossiping, you know."

"Are you still talking?" He slid his hands past her shoulders and squeezed her biceps, forcing a loud moan from her. "You should be losing yourself to the master massage techniques I'm applying."

"So where did you learn to- ohhh who cares…mmmm…," she melted into him, pain and tension vanishing completely.

In the hour that followed, he massaged her shoulders, arms, head, and neck until she dozed off, totally limp in his embrace. He decided to let future Zevran worry about the Crows and all the complications they brought. Planning, after all, wasn't his strong point.


	12. House of Cards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Characters talk about past sexual assault and physical abuse.

They had to stay near the Brecilian Forest a day longer than planned because of Alyssa's wounds. Thankfully she seemed mobile enough for Morrigan to begin her shapeshifting training. Alistair didn't notice much in the way of magic being used, but Alyssa had an endless string of questions. The physical training looked more like meditation and exercise than anything magical. As long as he didn't end up a frog, they could do whatever they liked. The mages trained from sunrise to dusk, ending only when it was too dark to see clearly. Morrigan headed for her corner of the camp while Alyssa went to her tent to rest. Alistair turned the last of the skewered trout on the fire before calling the others to dinner. A nearby stream loaded with freshwater fish was a welcome change from dry rations.

Ashfur lumbered over with his dark tongue hanging out of his mouth. He drooled and whined at Alistair. The Warden smirked, giving the dog a good scratch behind the ears. "Here you go, pup." He took one of the fish off the spits and tossed it to the Mabari. "Have at it, boy." He looked around the camp. "Where's Alyssa?"

The dog grunted in response and looked up from his fish, jutting his nose in the direction of her tent. He turned back to his dinner.

Alistair approached Alyssa's tent and heard her speaking to someone else inside. "I've never done this before."

Who was she talking to?

The other voice was instantly recognizable. "Don't worry, my dear. You are in good hands."

Zevran! Why the hell was he in her tent? All sorts of unsavory things ran through his mind making his blood boil, but before he was able to grab the tent flap, he was pushed back by the Mabari.

"Grrrrrr!"Ashfur growled at Alistair and shook his head. It was clear the dog didn't want them to be disturbed.

Alistair didn't give a damn how close the dog and the elf were. He grabbed Ashfur's ear roughly and whispered through gritted teeth, "If you don't shut up, I'll never feed you again!"

The Mabari winced, slinking off to the fire with his head and haunches low to the ground. Alistair glared at him.

He heard Alyssa's voice again, "Wait, I'm not ready."

"Relax. You're doing fine." Zevran's voice was like silk.

Alistair blushed up to his hairline. There was no way they were doing, you know, that. Right? She was smart enough to resist the elf. He must be just taking things out of context. Any minute now, Alyssa would force him from her tent shooting little flames at him. That would should him who's boss. Alistair waited.

"Wow," she breathed, "It's so big already."

Zevran chuckled, "You seem so surprised. How big did you think it was supposed to be?"

"I dunno. If it gets much bigger, we might have to do this outside."

Andraste's flaming sword!

Alyssa's voice grew louder with excitement, "Yes!"

"Almost there!"

That was it. Alistair reached into the tent and grabbed an arm and pulled Alyssa out of the tent. "Holy balls!" she screamed. She was still fully clothed. Zevran followed and, to Alistair's surprise, was also fully clothed.

Zevran shouted at him, "What the hell is the matter with you? You could have torn her wounds open, you stupid oaf!"

Alistair ignored him. "What in the Maker's name were you two doing in there?" he yelled, giving her a good shake.

"None of your damn business," she pulled her arm out of his grasp and scowled. "Certainly nothing that constitutes yanking me out."

He wagged his finger at her and then pointed to Zevran. "I'm not leaving you alone in your tent with him. You know, you're letting him get entirely too close to you. Now he's in your tent where no one can see what he's doing? Oh no, I forbid it." He brought his wrists together, one crossing the other, and moved his open hands down and away in a slashing motion.

Alyssa raised her eyebrows, "I don't give a fiddler's fart what you forbid. You're not my damn father." Her head was swiveling side to side, her words becoming more heated.

"I'm not trying to be. I'm trying to keep you alive! He's an assassin, Alyssa. Don't be stupid. Using charm is what he does to get close to people before… you know!"

"That's perfect. In three minutes, you managed to drag me out of my tent, question what I was doing in it, patronize me, and then call me stupid."

"I'm just trying to keep you from making a mistake."

"What mistake?" she gestured toward him with both hands open.

"Well, it sounded like...like he was...you both could have been..."

"Andraste's knickerweasels," she hit her forehead with the palm of her hand. "You thought we were having sex?" When she wanted it to her voice could carry, and this time, boy did it ever.

Alistair became keenly aware of the many pairs of eyes turning their way. "Lower your voice!"

Alyssa shouted, "Who the fuck put you in charge of what happens in and outside of my vagina!"

The jaws of both men dropped. The Chantry raised Warden almost choked on the embarrassment that shot through him. Alyssa's outburst obliterated all thoughts and words. She was as close to a little sister that he would ever have and to hear her yell about her…private…area, well, it was just too much to handle. He could do nothing but sputter.

Zevran looked just as stunned, but nowhere near as flustered. He had his head lowered, trying to hide a smirk. He brought his right hand up to his forehead and hugged his left arm across his stomach, tucking his hand under his elbow. The assassin's shoulders shook with suppressed laughter.

Alistair finally regained the power of speech, albeit a bit high pitched and squeaky. "Holy Divine Mother, you did not just say that!" He brought his hands up to his eyes, not able to look at her.

"What? Vagina?" Loud was an understatement. Every head in the camp was turned their way, even Sandal's though Bodahn had his hands over the lad's ears. Alyssa kept going, "It's not a dirty word, Alistair. Lots of people have vaginas, and what they do with them is their own business."

Alistair stuck his fingers in his ears and yelled, "Stop saying that!" Zevran had covered his mouth to hold back the bulk of the laughter as tears squeezed from the corners of his eyes. She wasn't on fire, so that was a good sign.

"Vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina, vagina!"

Alistair turned every shade of red known to man and quite possibly a few more yet undiscovered. He sank to his knees and covered his head, unable to handle the spitfire mage and praying to the Maker that she didn't yell out any other parts. Zevran burst into reels of laughter. His shoulders bounced, he doubled over holding his sides, and his cheeks filled with a rosy blush. Grey Warden Alyssa, the slayer of darkspawn, Ferelden's only hope of survival, had just lost her mind and screamed about her vagina loud enough to summon the archdemon.

Alyssa held her hand open at him, waving it in a circular motion. "I can't deal with you right now!" she headed for the tree line. Leliana chased after her.

When Alistair finally pulled his fingers from his ears, Zevran clapped his hands slowly. "Bravo, my friend. You certainly handled that like a man."

Alistair jumped to his feet and glared at the elf. "Shut up! This is all your fault!"

Zevran rolled his eyes. "Yes, you're absolutely right. How stupid of me."

"It is, damn it!" He pointed at Zevran, "If you hadn't been sneaking into her tent, none of this would have happened. It's all your fault!" A weight had settled in his chest, turning his stomach upside down. It was all wrong, all of it just came out all wrong, and now he felt miserable. It must have shown because he felt Zevran touch his arm.

"Alistair," he said softly, "she loves you as a brother. If you go to her and apologize, she will forgive you. But first, you need to understand why she is so upset."

"She's mad because I'm an idiot."

"Partly, but that is not the real reason."

He sneered, "And you're going to tell me?"

"Stop acting like a child. It's unbecoming." Zevran narrowed his eyes. "Your leader, Duncan, I believe, saw fit to make her a Grey Warden, yes? She has traveled through Ferelden recruiting armies, battling werewolves, and preparing to kill an archdemon. Yet, you treat her like a child when she is alone with another man. Which is it? She is a woman when she has a job to do, but a child when it comes to companionship?"

"Well, I don't know what your intentions are with her!" Alistair snapped. "You did try to kill us all, remember?"

Zevran said, “But that is not the problem here, is it?"

Alistair shook his head, "I don't follow."

"Would you have reacted the same way if a different man was in her tent?"

"I…" Alistair thought about it for a moment. In the little towns they visited for supplies, he had noticed when men would look at her with desire, and he always made sure to stick close to her, shooting them warning looks. Guilt welled up in his chest, "Oh bugger…but, I only want to protect her. Some men can be horrible."

Zevran said, "Let's take that a step further. You are with Leliana, her best friend. How do you think she feels seeing you both together and not having that kind of companionship?"

Alistair winced, "And I just made it seem like she can't have that, didn't I?"

Zevran nodded.

He put his hand across his eyes, "She must hate me now."

"My dear Alistair, if she hated you, she would not be so upset." Zevran took him by the arm and led him in the same direction Alyssa and Leliana had walked. "Apologize to her, and she will forgive you. She seems to have a great affection for men who put their foot in their mouth. Come, you know what happens when women commiserate about the men they choose."

"Why are the pretty ones always so complicated?" Alistair followed Zevran.

"It's the smart ones you need to look out for. They happen to be both."

* * *

Cool night air laced through her fur as Morrigan trotted back through the darkened forest clenching a dead rabbit firmly in her jaws. Her paws fell silently in the dirt and leaves littering the ground. Everything smelled of sticky metallic blood, but under that was the moss and decay of the woods. Running among the trees always made her feel free, wild, powerful. Now it was time to return to camp. When she left, Alistair had been roasting fish over the fire. On her way back, Morrigan slipped through the undergrowth and past the pond not far from where they had set up. She didn't expect to see Alyssa and Leliana deep in conversation. Well, that was a bit of an understatement. Leliana was seated on a rocky outcropping near the pond while Alyssa paced back and forth, shouting about how Alistair was acting like an idiot. Morrigan decided to stay hidden and have her meal while she watched.

"He's just having a 'big brother' moment," Leliana said, trying to calm the Warden down, "I'm sure he didn't mean anything by it."

"He doesn't trust my judgment, that's what it comes down to," Alyssa yelled. She shook her head, "All this time, all we've been through. He wants me to make difficult decisions, but he doesn't trust me to make a good choice when it comes to being with someone."

"He does trust you. He's just confused."

Alyssa made a razzing sound with her lips, "Confused my ass! He thinks I'm some dumb little girl. "

She was quite the fool for hanging her hopes on a Templar. 'Twas bad enough that she desired more from the assassin, but if she thought for a moment that a Templar and a Mage would ever be equals then her naiveté would eventually get her killed. Morrigan ripped off a piece of the rabbit's hind leg with her long canines and chewed the sinew, blinking her yellow eyes.

Leliana sighed, "Alyssa, think about Alistair. Think about what he's really like. I don't believe he sees 'dumb' when he looks at you. I think he sees 'sister.' Zevran did try to kill you once before."

"And he's saved me a few times since! How many times are we going to keep bringing that up?“

"I didn't say Alistair was right. I agree with you," Leliana said. "When you decide to be intimate with Zevran is your choice."

Alyssa stopped pacing. Her hands fell to her sides, all anger and frustration vanished, leaving an air of tension. Leliana rose to her feet, "Alyssa…Alyssa, what's wrong?"

Her jaw worked. A hard swallow flashed at her throat, and it was a few moments before she spoke. "I can't." She turned her back to Leliana. "I can't be with him or anyone like that, I just can't."

Something fluttered in Morrigan's stomach. The way Alyssa went suddenly still as if she could keep control by ceasing to move or make noise. Leliana seemed to know what was troubling her.

"It was that man that took you after your father died," the sister said. "He hurt you didn't he."

Alyssa nodded.

"It must have been very frightening." Leliana touched Alyssa's arm. "I've seen how you move. You don't let anyone stand behind you if it can be helped. After you were hurt, I overheard Zevran asking if Wynne could tend to your wounds a second time, because you were nervous about having your back touched. But the crossbow bolt went through your chest."

Alyssa shuddered. "The scars…so many. I couldn't make them go away." She swallowed hard, her voice strained and reedy, "It’s been long enough, and I can't make them go away." Morrigan put the pieces together as Leliana gave voice to what happened.

"How long did he have you whipped?"

"Ah…" she stammered, struggling to speak, "I, uh, lost count. But it was more than a couple of weeks. I think. The cell didn't have windows— I don't want to talk about this, please, Leliana."

Leliana pressed her hands together and put them to her lips. She whispered, "Andraste's tears." She lowered her hands. "Alyssa, I am so sorry."

Alyssa nodded her head, "Yeah, me too."

Through all of it, Morrigan noticed not once did the Warden cry. She expected it. Her own emotions screamed outrage at the sniveling coward who would have a woman caged and whipped, but there was little to be done about it now. The fact that Alyssa had broken free of her captor earned Morrigan's respect. Her refusal to weep over it won her admiration, though she would not begrudge Alyssa her tears.

"How did you escape?" Leliana asked.

Alyssa spoke softly, "After the worst of the beatings, I woke up in a bedroom alone. There was a wedding gown on a dress form with a note attached to it." She swallowed thickly. "It said ' _I own you_.'"

Morrigan bristled.

"I took off the bloody rags I was wearing, put on the dress, and found my way to the roof." The spirit in her eyes went dead. Her arms hung loosely at her sides. "I jumped." A long silence followed.

"Did he—"

"No," Alyssa said sharply. "He was saving that for last. Idiot made the mistake of leaving the doors unlocked." She grabbed Leliana's arm, "You cannot tell Zevran or Alistair! Alistair won't be able to keep his mouth shut and Zevran…" she swallowed hard, "…you can't tell him."

"He has plenty of scars himself," Leliana said, "and he's not the type that would think them ugly or repulsive."

Alyssa's voice went shrill and high pitched, "Fuck the scars! Who cares about that? I don't even know why he's interested in a scruffy looking, chubby girl like me, but whatever floats his rowboat." She ran her hands through her hair. "He sees the mess of my back, he'll start asking questions, ones I can't dodge …he'll think I'm weak. That I asked for it. That I didn't try hard enough." It was only then that she started crying, "He'll think it's my fault." Leliana pulled Alyssa into a hug, making sure to keep her arms around her neck and not her back or waist. The Warden sobbed into her robes. "That's why I keep brushing him off. If he sees…oh sweet Andraste! And I want to, I really, really do. But I'd rather push him away now than have him blame me for this because it _is_ my fault! It's all my fault. All of it."

Morrigan shook her dark shaggy head. The girl was irrational. She held no love for Zevran, but even she knew that the elf would not pass judgment. It wasn't him. If anything, Zevran would hunt down the coward and bring back his heart on a spit, just as she was contemplating.

Leliana cupped Alyssa's wet face in her hands, gently guiding their eyes to meet. "It's not your fault. That man was depraved. Yes, you stole from him. That much you are culpable for, but that did not give him any right to do what he did. You are a person, not property."

"It's my faul—"

"Not your fault." Their foreheads touched. "Not your fault."

"He wants to be with me." Alyssa was holding on to Leliana's waist. "What am I going to say to him? What do I do? I'm not ready to tell…I…I can't."

Leliana took a step back. She was smiling, and the tip of her tongue was peeking out from between her white teeth. "Well…I have a few ideas actually."

Alyssa wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve. "Uh oh," she allowed a quick chuckle though it sounded like more of a hiccup. "Should I be worried?"

Leliana took off the linen sash that was tied around her waist. She folded it up and placed it into the Warden's hands. "All it takes is a little creativity," Leliana smiled. She pointed to the sash, "Blindfold."

Alyssa's face brightened for a quick moment before she frowned, "But he can still feel them."

"So tie him down or use your magic to push him around."

"I…wow, I didn't think about that."

"Let him get naked. He seems like the exhibitionist type anyway." She nodded, "Why is it always the women that have to be naked?"

"Oh, lord." It was hard to see colors in the low light, but the way her cheeks rose and the corners of her eyes crinkled, Morrigan assumed she was blushing. She was about to step from the shadows when Alistair and Zevran came blundering through the trees. For an assassin, he could be very heavy on his feet. Of course, it was probably to alert Leliana and Alyssa of their arrival more than a mere accident.

Concern crossed both of their faces when they saw Alyssa drying her eyes. Zevran punched Alistair in the arm, " _Idiota_! Why did you make her cry?"

Alistair calmly turned his head to Zevran and said, "You're gonna hurt yourself a lot faster then you're gonna hurt me, little man."

Alyssa chuckled, "Boys, please, you're both pretty."

Zevran nodded to Alistair. When Alistair stepped toward Alyssa, Zevran shook out his hand and massaged the fingers with a wince.

"I'm sorry, Alyssa," he said. "I acted like a, well like Zev said, like an _idiota_."

"I'm sorry I embarrassed the hell outta you." She took Alistair's hands in hers and touched his knuckles to her lips, hugging his arms.

Zevran nudged Leliana, "I saw it firsthand. Marvelous."

Leliana grinned, "You're a bad man." He waggled his eyebrows.

Alistair shook his head. "If you don't mind me asking, what were you two talking about anyway?"

"We were making little buildings with a deck of cards," Alyssa said. "The one we had going almost reached to the top of the tent before you hauled me out. It fell."

Alistair tipped back his head, closed his eyes, and made a 'pfft' sound.

"Yeah. Whatever you thought was way out of context," Alyssa chuckled. She let go of his hands, "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a game of 52 pickup to finish." Leliana followed her.

Zevran gave Alistair a sideways glance. "I should probably join her. She may need help handling the 'one-eyed Jack.'" He darted back to camp with a grumbling Alistair close behind.

Morrigan finished her rabbit tartar and licked her lips. Shaking the forest debris from her fur, she decided that rabbit tastes better when in a stew and men, overall, were complete fools.


	13. The Girl at the Pearl

It took a full day to get to Denerim, and by the time the team rolled in, they were all exhausted. On the way, they ran into a band of mercenaries hired to kill 'the little red-haired girl.' Leliana had revealed the finer points of her past and planned to seek out her former bard mistress to settle a score. Zevran had often suspected that she was more than met the eye, although he believed that she indeed did find some kind of peace at the Chantry.

Bodahn had done his best to find suitable accommodations, but all he could get was a shabby inn just off the docks with tiny rooms and a lousy bar. The dwarf kept ducking his head and apologizing, "I'm so sorry, Warden! These were the only rooms I could find for a group this size. Sandal, Ashfur, and I can take one room. Everyone else can have their own."

"Don't worry, Bodahn," Alyssa said. "Thank you for making the arrangements."

Zevran listened to the Wardens work out what they had to take care of while in the city. First, there was the reason they were in Denerim, which was to find Brother Genitive. Then Alistair asked if they could visit his sister Goldanna since they were in the area. He admitted he had no idea what the woman was like. Zevran had developed affection for the man, but sometimes Alistair could be so naive. He had a feeling it wouldn't turn out well. So be it. It wasn't Zevran's business anyway.

"Let's stop by the Brother's place and see if we can get any answers or clues," Alyssa said. "After that, we can swing by Goldanna's house and deal with Marjolaine. Fair?"

"It would be better if we split up," Sten said.

"I like that idea," Alistair said.

Leliana said, "Wynne, would you accompany Ashfur and me?" Wynne nodded. "That would leave Alistair free to go with Alyssa and Zevran. Sten and Morrigan can follow up with Brother Genitive, and we can all be back before twilight." The rest of them agreed, and the teams split up.

While traveling about the city, Alistair, Alyssa, and Zevran passed by The Pearl. A soft moan of pleasure drifted out of the open windows and reached Zevran's ear. He closed his eyes, grimacing and letting his head fall forward with a frustrated groan. The stolen moments he had with Alyssa were quite marvelous, but they were not enough. He craved that intimate connection, the heat of another person, and the high that followed ecstasy. Zevran slowed as they walked by the front door to the whorehouse and cast a longing look in its direction.

He felt Alyssa at his elbow. She bit her lip before saying, "If...if you want. Well, I can go with Alistair. You can…go in."

Zevran flinched, "Are you certain?" This was the last thing he expected her to suggest.

"I know it's probably been a while," she said. She shoved a small purse in his hand. "Remember your raincoat," Alyssa's laugh was nervous, and her smile a bit lopsided.

He frowned, and asked again at seeing her unease, "Are you certain?"

"Yeah, just be safe," she walked on ahead, preventing any further conversation.

Zevran closed his fingers over the little leather bag, weighing it in his hands. It was heavy. This could get him the best The Pearl had to offer with a generous tip leftover. The last time he had someone in the 'palm of his hand,' it was business, not pleasure. Not even slightly. He watched as the Wardens turned the corner, then a moment longer to see if Alyssa would change her mind. After a few minutes, he decided to go inside and see what was in store.

* * *

The Pearl was an upscale brothel. It was beautifully lit with brass wall sconces and chandeliers, and thick red silk curtains hung from every shaded glass window. Soft couches littered the room covered in luxurious fabrics and piled high with cushions. A beautiful woman or handsome man lounging among them smiled to anyone that caught their eye. Even the selection behind the mahogany bar was in ornate glass bottles, no clay here. A woman approached him with a smile. "Welcome to the Pearl. My name is Sanga. Is there anything I can help you with, serrah?" She was a human, tall, lithe, with dark hair swept up in a perfect bun and the only one fully clothed, so he assumed she was the madam.

Zevran smiled, "I do hope so, my dear."

"You're from Antiva?" her eyes lit up. "It's not often we have the pleasure of entertaining your fellow countrymen. Please let me know if you see anyone who piques your interest."

He nodded and headed for the bar, looking over the sex workers stretched out on the couches. Something with a kick was in order. A flick of his finger summoned the bartender. "Something strong, please," Zevran handed him a few coins, two for the drink and one for the bartender. The rim of the glass was cool and smooth against his lips as he sipped the amber liquid. It filled his chest with warmth, relaxing his limbs and sanding down the edges of his tension.

A female voice purred from behind him. "Well, I'll be an Orlesian dandy. Zevran Arainai, as I live and breathe."

"Isabella! My siren of the seas," Zevran bowed low to her. When he rose, she stepped forward, locking him in a passionate kiss. A hum of pleasure welled up from him, vibrating against her lips. She smelled of salty sea air and harsh whiskey. Feeling her deepen the kiss, he could still taste the alcohol on her breath. A coil of heat just below his stomach started to tighten from the way she pressed her full bosom against him and wrapped her leg around his hips. Suddenly something didn't feel quite right, pleasurable as it was to be in the pirate queen's embrace. He felt his mind stray to thoughts of the Warden and how she would feel in his arms. What would she taste like? How would her curves feel under his fingertips?

Zevran started to pull away. Lips once soft and inviting started to firm. Tongue, once dancing, was retracted. Isabella seemed to notice his reaction, "Did I catch you at a bad time, or does my breath smell like a wet Mabari?"

"No, no, nothing like that." He forced a smile and pulled out one of the bar stools. "Please, let me buy you a drink."

Isabella sat down next to him and motioned for the bartender. He poured her a glass of whiskey, which vanished past her lips in an instant. She sipped slowly at the next round. "I've never seen anyone look so troubled in a brothel. Well, virgins maybe. I didn't expect this from you."

"Neither did I. It seems that my life has gotten rather complicated as of late."

The pirate sighed, leaning against the mahogany surface. "Complicated is shit." Zevran nodded and sipped his drink. Isabella dipped her finger in hers, lacing a drop of it around the rim of her glass. "What are you doing in Ferelden?"

The smirk on his face didn't meet his eyes. "It is a long story. I will not bore you with details, but the gist of it is I'm traveling in the company of the Grey Wardens."

"Bullshit."

"I'm as surprised as you are," he said. "It was a contract gone wrong. What can I say, even the best make mistakes." He shrugged and tossed back the last of his whiskey. Two more coins on the bar saw it refilled.

"Switching sides, I can understand. I'm surprised because they didn't kill you."

"One of them is a bit of a soft touch. She—"

Isabella pursed her lips, "Ah, now I see. Lady troubles. Let me guess. She's the tyrannical type, likes to hold the whip, make you beg?"

Zevran laughed, "Hardly."

"Ok. Then the pious virgin who says 'no' when she means 'yes'?"

"A little closer but still, not really, no." He shook his head, "Does it matter?"

"Uh oh," Isabella smiled cat-like in the dim lighting, "she's under your skin, Ser Arainai. You're tangled up in your own net."

He leaned away from the bar, suddenly feeling irritated, "Don't be stupid. If you hadn't noticed, there is a Blight coming. If I kill them now, who will stop the darkspawn?"

"Sweet thing, I never said anything about killing." She licked her lips, "Fuck your contract. It's the Warden you want, and it's not your blades you want to stick her with." When the bartender came over to refill her glass, she grabbed his wrist, "Leave the bottle." She pulled him close to her, "Meet me in room three in thirty minutes." He grinned and nodded, leaving the bottle with her. To Zevran, she said, "You can join us if you wish."

Zevran smiled. He opened his mouth to reply but could find no words and only shook his head.

Isabella filled his glass with a heavy-handed pour. "Zevran, what are you doing here?"

"I don't know." He ran his thumbs over the glass, staring into its amber depths.

"Then why don't you go find her?"

"It's not as simple as that…" They had been traveling together for months now, and still, he felt that there was not enough time and distance between him and his most recent sin. There were too many variables, too much of him that would be exposed. He wasn't ready to risk losing again.

Isabella put her hand over his glass, "Zevran." He looked over at her. "Stop hiding in a whorehouse and go after what you really want." She had the same soft brown eyes as his Warden, the same full Rivani curves, and dark hair. But she wasn't his Warden. None of these women were.

Zevran lowered his eyes. "I'm not as brave as I once was, cara."

"A ship is safe in the harbor, but that's not what ships are for."

The assassin chewed on the tip of his thumbnail, listening to the soft clinking of glasses and muted conversations around him. After a few long moments of deliberation, he tossed the small purse on the bar top. "Have fun, my pirate queen, and pay your lovers well," he kissed her quickly and headed out into the city.


	14. The Art of Falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: If someone who speaks better Spanish sees that the ending line is totally wrong -please let me know!

Genitive had gotten in over his head. Sten and Morrigan reported that his apprentice had been killed and his identity assumed by someone sending Arl Eamon's knights to their deaths. They had taken care of the imposter and did some follow up work in the Brother's research. Apparently, he was on his way to a town called Haven, far to the northwest.

Zevran stole a glance over at the Wardens. After camp was set up, Alistair and Alyssa started poring over a series of maps to plot out their course and digging into a bag of dried fruit. They were near Wynne and Leliana's tents, a reasonable distance from the campfire, and oblivious to anything else going on.

A quick whistle summoned Ashfur to his side. The Mabari bounded over with tongue lolling out at the side of his mouth. He nuzzled Zevran with his stubby snout. The elf smiled and said, "Just as we planned, yes?"

"Wuff!" Ashfur barked and wagged his tail. He walked to the opposite side of the fire and waited.

Zevran knelt by the pile of firewood, craft knife in hand, and began cutting off bits of leaves that had not yet been trimmed. A flash of the blade and he jumped up with a shout, holding his hand to his chest. " _Braska_!"

Alyssa was up from the maps and at his side in an instant, "Let me see."

Zevran tucked his hand under his arm, "It's nothing. Only a small cut." He kept moving away, turning his body and commanding her full attention. It made him want to giggle.

"That will be cold comfort if it gets infected." She took his wrist to inspect the damage, but when she finally got a good look, there was no blood or wound. "Oh, you lying sack a' sh—"

"Can't keep your hands off me, can you?" The assassin stepped in, closing the distance between them and caressing her hands. "I'm irresistible. It's a curse really."

Alyssa sighed, "Zev, I'm trying to work here."

Alistair waved from the map pile, "I can handle the rest."

"Not helping," she glared at him.

With Alyssa distracted, Zevran dropped his right hand and made a flicking movement with his fingers in Ashfur's direction.

"Alone at last," he whispered in her ear.

"I'm going to stab you now," she said. "I might not stop."

"Such fire! You know it drives me wild," he grinned. "Besides, I checked. You are not armed."

She lowered her head, flashing a toothy grin, "I don't have to be armed to be dangerous."

"Quite right. Yet here you are, practically in my arms and you're not struggling." Zevran saw the Mabari rear up behind Alyssa. He shifted his weight as she was pushed forward, into his arms and onto his lips.

After months of flirting and teasing, he felt her mouth on his, hot honeyed breath mixing with the taste of her. Excitement filled his chest as he deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms around her waist. The assassin flicked his tongue along her bottom lip feeling her moan under him. He felt the texture of it on his tongue, soft, pliant, swollen. Probing delicately inside her mouth, he tasted the sweetness from the dried cherries she had moments before. He could feel her heartbeat thunder against his, her body pressing firmly against him.

All the world, its charms and perils, slipped away at that moment as Zevran felt himself fall weightless into their kiss. He felt her starting to pull away and something he tried to hold onto for so long shattered. He whispered desperate, pleading, not caring about walls, "Don't leave me."

"Never," Alyssa said before crashing against his lips once again. She wrapped her arms around his back and laced her fingers in his hair. A thrill fluttered in his stomach when she traced her nails down his neck. Heat spread from his core up his spine and down his legs making his knees tremble. Zevran felt her tugging him forward as she walked back. She started kissing his jawline to his earlobe. "I have rules," she said breathlessly.

"I am very good at following rules." When she started nibbling on his ear, Zevran nearly toppled over from the surge of passion that jolted in him. He felt her push a piece of folded cloth into his hands before they ducked into her tent. She could have told him to pluck the moon from the sky, and he would have found a way. Anything she asked of him, she would have, as long as she allowed him to drown in her embrace and be set ablaze by her kisses. The last thought that drifted through his mind before he fully surrendered to his Warden was, ' _Si vivo un día sin usted en mis brazos, mi corazón romperá..._ '

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Translation: If I live a day without you in my arms, my heart shall break.)


	15. The Better Part of Valor

Leliana rubbed the sleep from her eyes, yawning, and stretching. What was that heavenly smell? Morning light shone on her tent, making it glow a soft yellow inside. The scent was stronger now and calling to her. She frowned when she noticed Alistair's bedroll was empty and cold. That smell was wonderful, meaty and smokey. Bacon! Leliana threw on the first clean shirt and leggings she could find and scrambled out of the tent. Alyssa had a slab of bacon sizzling away in one large cast-iron skillet and a mass of scrambled eggs in another, the smell of it filling the camp and making Leliana's mouth water.

She gasped and hugged Alyssa around the neck and kissed her cheeks. "I haven't seen bacon in forever. I almost forgot how it tastes."

"Salty, porky, and amazing," Alyssa chuckled. "Picked up a few slabs in Denerim. I'm trying to keep them cold with an ice enchant. We'll see how that holds up."

Leliana snatched a strip on the more done end of the bacon pan, yelping at the heat of it. She blew on it a few times before biting down on it and moaning loudly. "Mmmm! I'm in heaven!"

Alyssa shook her head. "I wanted everyone up and moving as quickly as possible."

"Bacon is a good motivator."

"We've wasted too much time faffing about with my injury and then all the side business in Denerim. Don't get me wrong. I'm glad you and Alistair were able to get closure. I'm annoyed because Brother Genitive is still missing. Another mystery to unravel." She rolled her eyes.

"Speaking of 'heaven,'" Leliana said around another mouthful of meat, "is there something that you would like to tell me?"

Alyssa struggled to school her expression, "Don't know what you're talking about."

"You liar!" she slapped Alyssa's arm.

The Warden winced and laughed, "Ow! Shit on a shingle! That hurt!"

"Well?"

Alyssa looked away.

Was that good or bad? Leliana started to think she took it too far. Maybe nothing happened, and she was upset about not being able to…

Alyssa lifted her head with a radiant smile and her cheeks full of rosy color, "It was wonderful."

Leliana squealed with delight, drawing stares from others at camp. "I'm so happy for you! You have to give me details."

"Hell no! Are you crazy?"

"Oh, come on. That's so not fair. I would tell you about Alistair and me."

"How much bacon would it take to stop that?"

Leliana laughed and grabbed another hot piece, swearing all the way.

"I have an idea," Alyssa said, "It's kind of 'out there,' but humor me. How about you wait until after it cools?"

"You're no fun," she licked the grease off her fingers. "Keeping such delicious details to yourself, and here we are, practically sisters."

"Hey, sis," she winked, "can you keep a secret?"

"Yes!"

"So can I."

"You're a horrible tease, you know that?"

Alyssa laughed, "That's what he said."

* * *

Zevran was brushing out Ashfur's coat. Since the weather was getting warmer, he started shedding and dog hair was getting into everything. The brushing also helped get some of the funk out of the animal. Wynne had insisted on bathing him the other night and thank the Maker for that, but the hair hadn't come loose with the soaps.

He stood up, admiring his handy work, and was about to compliment the dog when Alistair approached. This could be bad. Although one would think they had straightened things out after the misunderstanding the other night, there was still a crackle of intensity about the Warden as he walked over. It helped that he had not yet donned his plate mail and looked, at first glance, unarmed. He wasn't sure what to say to 'big brother.' Maybe it would be best to let him speak first. Only a smart comment would leave Zevran's lips anyway, not being known for self-control in these situations. A moment like this was why he always kept a small blade hidden inside his belt.

Alistair took a deep breath. He looked the assassin up and down. "Just…make her happy."

He felt more relieved than expected. Zevran patted Alistair on the back and squeeze his shoulder. Suddenly, the Warden had pulled Zevran into a bear hug, causing his arms to flail. Leliana and Alyssa looked over, alarm crossing their faces before he could signal a thumbs up to them.

"Come on," Alistair said, releasing him, "they've got tons of bacon and eggs over there, and I'm starving. It's going to be a hard push to Orzammar, but if we travel all day, we can be there by nightfall."

Ashfur looked up at Zevran and snorted as if to say, 'that was close.'

He scratched the dog behind the ears. "You're telling me."


	16. The Deep Roads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: At the end of the chapter, I'm trying something a little different. Both Zevran and Alyssa are speaking. Zev in italics and Alyssa in plain format. The line that is centered is both of them speaking. It worked in my head pretty clearly and I hope I was able to show that here.

The weather held. A bright blue, cloudless sky and a warm sun made travel incredibly easy on the Northern Road to Orzammar. Bodahn and Sandal were not able to keep the quick pace that the Wardens had set and arrived at the Orzammar gates late that night. When Alyssa told the dwarf where they were headed, a somber look crossed his face.

"Is everything ok, Bodahn?" she touched his shoulder.

"Ah, yes, Warden." He smiled, a bit strained, "Nothing to worry yourself about. Going home is a little difficult." Bodahn patted her hand. "Don't you worry, dear. We'll be right behind you."

It was only after the team entered the city that they learned Bodahn and Sandal were not permitted to enter Orzammar. Surface dwarves were not welcome underground after they left for the world above. A lot of what Alyssa saw and learned in those lava lit tunnels seemed harsh to the point of outright cruelty. To be fair, Orzammar was no different than any other city that treated its poor and vulnerable like vermin. They were just more upfront about it. She started to notice that any time they had to deal with nobles or locals, they directed their questions at Alistair and tried to ignore her when she spoke up. Not that she would begrudge Alistair taking the lead, but it was a bit rude on the part of the dwarves to dismiss her out of hand. For the most part, she was able to shrug it off. The longer they were there, the more it started to grate on her nerves.

Alistair winced when he spoke to her, "I'm so sorry about this. I can tell them to stop."

She shrugged, "What difference would it make? It's faster this way, and we're not going to change their culture. I just want the troops so we can get the hell outta here. There's nothing green down here. Nothing grows."

"There's fungus."

"Ew."

Then there were the two candidates for the throne. Joy. Rapture. It was times like this Alyssa wished she knew how to use lightning efficiently and had less of a conscience to stop her. As if their backbiting wasn't enough, each side had fanatics jumping them in the streets trying to kill them for supporting one side or the other. Dust Town was the only place they could avoid those freaks, but the area came with risks of its own. Until Orzammar had a king, there would be no aid for the Wardens.

Both Lord Harrowmont and Prince Bhelen asked the Wardens to find their Paragon in the Deep Roads. Neither of them even acknowledged the women in the group and focused solely on Alistair, Sten, and Zevran. The anxiety coming from Alistair was palpable. As soon as they were out of the lord's and prince's presence, respectively, he would turn to Alyssa and ask her advice. Even though the answers he had given Harrowmont and Bhelen were sound, he still doubted his decisions. "Alistair, you're doing fine," she said. "You don't need me to bless every decision you make."

"But what if I do the wrong thing? I don't want anyone getting hurt or having our quest fail." He ran his hands through his hair.

Alyssa touched his elbow. It was all she could reach. "Look around you. You have backup. We're all adults and we're all working together. You can do this, and as soon as we're on our way, I can start leading again if that's what you want."

"Maker, yes!"

"Honestly, I think it would help you more if we led together. You've made decisions in the past that worked. Why are you always second-guessing yourself?"

He frowned. "I guess because no one ever listened before."

"If you make a choice that sounds questionable, the rest of us will question it. That doesn't mean we doubt you. You all challenge me sometimes, and I think it makes us stronger for it. We all have the quest at heart." It seemed to help him relax.

Just before they got to the entrance of the Deep Roads, the team was stopped by an ill-tempered, drunk dwarf with fiery red hair and an enormous battle-ax. "Stranger! Have you seen a Grey Warden hereabouts? I heard tell that he was setting out to search for Branka on the prince's own orders." He slurred his speech and seemed to have trouble keeping still as his body swayed slightly.

He looked over at Sten. With a sigh, Sten pointed to Alistair and Alyssa. The dwarf scoffed, "Seriously? You two are the Wardens? I mean, the Grey Wardens?"

"At your service," Alistair said.

"Well, if you're the best they've got, then standards must have fallen way down," he chuckled. "But, I suppose that would account for a motley crew like this in Orzammar." He hooked his thumb at the rest of the party, who returned looks of varying degrees of tolerance, Morrigan being at the lowest end of the scale. However, they seemed to him, it didn't stop him from asking for help. "Name's Oghren, and if it's not too much, I'd like to ask you a favor."

The Wardens looked at each other ruefully. Alyssa said, "Go ahead."

"It seems like I'm the only one around here who's still lookin' for our Paragon, Branka," Oghren said. "If you're headin' off into the Deep Roads, I wanna go with you."

"No offense," Alyssa said, "but you'll have to give me a good reason to come along. We don't just pick up strays."

Alistair whispered to her, "Yes, we do."

She nudged him, "Shh! He doesn't know that."

Oghren was either too drunk or too deaf to notice. "I'm her husband. I'm also the only one who cares about her as a person, not some sodding symbol. I'm not about to leave her to the Deep roads where she can't defend herself. I also know what she was looking for. Betchya neither of those nug-humpers told you, did they?"

"Honestly, it was a trial just to stay in the same room with them," Alyssa said, rolling her eyes. "Yeah, sure, come on." She waved him forward. "What the hell was she looking for anyway?"

"It's called the Anvil of the Void. The secret to building golems was lost centuries ago, built in the old Ortan Thaig. All she knew was that it was past Caridin's Cross. No one's seen that thaig for five hundred years."

"We have a map that leads us right to the Cross," Alistair held up a worn scroll of leather.

Oghren nodded, "If we're going, let's get moving. Branka's not going to sodding find herself.

* * *

There was no way to tell time in the Deep Roads. An ominous glow emanated from lava flowing in the stone floors and cast an eerie light up the walls which seemed to climb into forever. No wind stirred, nothing grew, and the heat mixed with gloom permeated every corridor and alcove they encountered. Alyssa could feel the darkness close to her skin as if it were a tangible thing pressing against her. Finding Caridin's Cross was easy enough with the map, and Oghren was able to find Branka's trail from there.

It was more than once that her new shape-shifting skills were tested against packs of darkspawn. Big shapes were easy. Morrigan had taught her how to shift into a bear, which added strength and toughness though slowing her reflexes. Alyssa was able to smash in a few darkspawn skulls when the heavy hitters were out of reach. Feeling the crunch of the bones under her massive paws sent shivers up her spine. Unused to killing, she broke her concentration more than once on holding her form and turned back into her human shape. Ducking behind a rock, she lost the contents of her stomach. She was able to pull herself together before the last body fell to the ground.

From the string of dead littering the tunnels behind them, it must have been several hours' worth of traveling under their belts. Oghren knocked on Alistair's plate-mail. "We should stop here, Warden. It'll only get harder beyond the thaig, and from the look of the layout, there should be a source of clean water not far from here."

"Is it safe enough?" Alistair slung his shield off his back. He looked like he was barely able to lift his sword arm.

"Won't matter soon," he said gruffly, "your pals look like they're on their last legs. I could use a break myself."

"Can you get us closer to the water source?" Alyssa asked. "I don't want anyone getting disoriented in the darkness."

"Sure thing."

It wasn't just a pool of fresh water. A waterfall fed it from high up, almost to the invisible ceiling of rock. It was less of a 'fall' and more of a silent river that cut into a towering rock slide, emptying out into a hollow in the stone floor. The water was cold running down the slide and clear to the bottom of the pool. Underneath the floor was a lava flow that was far enough to heat the pool to a wonderfully warm temperature. All of the women voiced their thanks, some in less delicate ways than others.

Zevran laughed, "Ladies first, by all means."

"You peek and I'll stab you," Alyssa threw him a sideways glance. He held his hands up and shook his head.

* * *

Sten, Oghren, Alistair, and Zevran made camp a short distance from the waterfall and out of its direct line of sight so that those using it would have some semblance of privacy. Meanwhile, Leliana, Wynne, Morrigan, and Alyssa were lounging in the heated pool, melting into the steam. It was only after an enormous amount of coaxing and promising that Alyssa removed the black under armor that ran from her neck to her ankles. The others couldn't help but exchange concerned looks when they saw the state of her back, arms, and legs.

"Before you say anything, no, I don't want to talk about it." She slipped into the water quickly. "The scars don't hurt anymore, and I'm still here, right?"

"And we're glad of it," Wynne said, smiling at Alyssa. "How is your training coming along?"

"Er…well…"

Morrigan spoke for her, "Slowly. I had hoped we would be further along by this point. You would have learned much more by now if your mind wasn't preoccupied with nonsense." She rolled her eyes, "I expected better of you."

Wynne frowned, "I have to agree with Morrigan. Your recent infatuation with Zevran is unbecoming a Grey Warden. You have a duty, and I think he keeps you from it."

Alyssa arched her eyebrow, "If anything is keeping me from that, it's these asinine tasks I have to perform before anyone lifts a damn finger to help out. Let's not forget that giving me and Alistair troops to fight the Darkspawn is in everyone's best interest."

"That's beside the point," she insisted. "You are a Grey Warden, and he only seems to have one thing on his mind."

Leliana piped up, "And you won't even share the delicious details." She folded her arms, "I'm quite cross with you."

"So, let me get this straight. Each one of you has a gripe with me, and now we're going to address all of it, correct?"

They nodded.

"And I'm assuming they all involve Zevran in one way or another?"

They exchanged looks, probably to all get on the same page, and nodded again. Lovely.

Alyssa heaved a sigh. "Fine. We'll take this in order of appearance. Morrigan, shape-changing is hard. Really hard. You're good at it because you do it all the time. I have one and a half lessons under my belt, and each time Zevran was nowhere to be seen. Get over it."

Morrigan flicked water at Alyssa's face and stuck out her tongue.

"Blag!" Alyssa rubbed her eye. "Wynne, if I didn't have to bend over backward to get an army together, this would all go a hell of a lot faster. That's more of a reflection on the people we're dealing with than any kind of sexual acrobatics he can suggest."

Wynne blushed from her shoulders to her eyebrows. "Andraste's grace, that's not what I meant." She shook her head, "Love is selfish. There may come a time when you have to choose to do what is the greater good or save the life of the one you love."

"You're using the 'L' word a lot here." Alyssa felt anxiety jolt through her. "I never said that I…look don't you think it's a bit early for that? It's just fun. It's Zevran for cryin' out loud. I doubt he's serious about..." Then she remembered what he said. 'Don't leave me.' At first, she thought she misheard him, but the look in his eyes as she started to pull away was so full of, what exactly? 'Don't leave me.' It sounded like he was begging. That was impossible. The guy was sent to put a knife in her back; this could be just another tactic to lower her guard. Her father called plays like this 'long cons' because the buildup was long and slow, and the outcome could happen weeks or even months after. She had said something back. 'Never.' Was that true? Would she never leave? Maybe Wynne was right.

"Look," Alyssa said, "don't worry about it. I know what I have to do and I'll do it, whatever that means."

Leliana pinched Alyssa's arm and talked over her exclamation of 'sonova bitch,' "You kissed, now tell!"

She splashed the bard, "You're the only one who wants to know." A look passed between the other mages. "Oh, come on! You both just got through lecturing me about being with him, now you want details?"

"We want entertainment, and you're the best thing in this black hole," Morrigan's grin glinted in the half-light.

“Wynne?”

Wynne shrugged. Before she looked away, Alyssa caught the smirk and pursed lips that Wynne was trying to hide.

“Seriously, how old are all of you.” Alyssa ran her hand through her curls and laughed, "Alright, alright." She tilted her head to the side, letting her memory slip back to the day before. "It was different than I expected…"

* * *

The area set up by the men was not an actual camp. They couldn't take the tents or bedrolls with them because of the threat of darkspawn and other nasty creatures in the Deep Roads. The most the team was able to carry were a few pillows, a change of clothes each, dry rations, and freshwater. Even then, their supplies were limited. Lucky enough, the darkspawn that lived in the dark tunnels left fire pits and wood scattered about, so getting some warmth going was easy enough. Zevran still wished that Alyssa would take care of the fire, but he also thought she should have some time to relax. The team had pushed hard to Orzammar and the way she was received by the dwarves, well, he knew a thing or two about being ignored and treated as a commodity. Speak when spoken to, don't question your betters. He was surprised that the ill-treatment of Alyssa irked him as much as it did Alistair.

Murmurs from the pool mixed with the occasional drip of water were the only sounds that could be heard in the cavern. Again the Mabari nestled in behind Zevran. He was glad of it too. They had become quite close, and he enjoyed the comfort the dog gave. Sten was reviewing the map they had, making notations in a small leather-bound journal, and Alistair was between him and Zevran, feeding sad excuses for twigs into the fire. A companionable silence had settled among them.

Oghren shattered that silence when he crashed to his ass with a flask in each hand. He shoved one of them at Zevran, "Here, take a swig. It'll put hair on your chest. Heh, which you desperately need."

He accepted it with a dubious look. As he raised it to his lips, the smell of it caught him. Zevran felt his stomach lurch, "What the hell is this?"

"Best ale that Tapsters has to offer," Oghren smiled broadly. The dwarf was slumping to the side and slurring again. Had he ever stopped? "Snuck round the back and lifted a few barrels. I figured better pack some good stuff if we're comin' down here. Come on, ya nug shit. Drink up!"

"Your charms know no bounds, do they?" The liquid sloshed in the silver flask. Oh well, "Salud." Right away, he knew that was a horrible mistake. The drink was somewhat viscous as it hit his mouth and slithered down his throat hot and choking, tasting like the devil himself pissed it out this morning. He lurched forward in a coughing fit, "¡Jóder mi culo!" Oghren and Alistair roared with laughter as Zevran tried to get control of himself. The drink was winning. He sprang to his feet when he thought his stomach was sure to empty out. Thankfully he was able to keep it down. He plopped back on his ass and leaned against Ashfur.

"Come on, little pike twirler," Oghren chuckled, "you turn. Show us what ya got!" He motioned for Zevran to pass it to Alistair.

"Pike twirler?" Distracted by his confusion, Alistair accepted the flask. For all he knew, Zevran could have handed him anything. "Where did you come up with that? I don't even have a pike to twirl." Alistair looked at the flask and the smell hit him, "Maker's breath! You can forget it. Not after that." He tried pushing it back at Zevran.

Oghren jeered, ”Oh come on, sissy-girl. Put on your big boy pants and take a gulp. It won't kill ya. Maybe."

The Warden wrinkled his nose. "What did it taste like?"

"Strong," Zevran smirked and left it at that.

Alistair groaned before taking a tiny sip. The teeniest sip he could have possibly taken and still taste it. He immediately spat it out over the fire, gaging and coughing the whole time. Oghren and Zevran howled at him. "You bastards!" he choked, "You total bastards! Andraste's tits! It was like stewed rotted feet and sword oil!" He thrust the flask to Sten.

They quieted down when the Qunari accepted it. He took a decent-sized swallow, blinked once and said, "This is terrible," then handed it back to Alistair before turning back to his journal.

"Pfft! Party pooper," Oghren said. He looked over at Zevran and grumbled, "Hmph! She would have to go for an elf."

Zevran arched his eyebrow, "She who?" There was only one way for this to go.

"You 'n the Warden. We all know what's goin' on there."

"Oh," he smiled, "Does that make you jealous, my stout little friend?"

"Me? Ha!" Oghren took a long drink from the flask, "Last thing I need is another woman in my life."

"One wife was enough for you, was she?" He looked over at Alistair, and they both rolled their eyes.

"Branka was only slightly more woman than I am. Bristle chin poetess."

"Shocking that our fair Grey Warden didn't choose you instead."

"Wonders never cease," he grumbled. A smirk spread across the dwarf's face, pulling the side of his flaming red beard up, "So how was it anyway? Do those freckles go all the way down? Heh, haha!"

"Oghren!" Alistair yelped, "The girl is like a sister to me. I don't want to hear this!"

Zevran felt a jolt of annoyance. It surprised him at first since bragging of conquests had always been a favorite pastime. Strange that it should surface now. "I wouldn't know. She had me blindfolded the whole time."

"I really don't want to hear this!" He covered his face with his hand.

"Calm down, Alistair," Zevran said.

"So you didn't see anything? What a waste!" Oghren said.

Zevran smiled, "It was anything but a waste, my fine dwarven friend. It was…not what I thought it would be."

Oghren snorted, "Yeah? And how's that?"

* * *

Alyssa smiled softly with a dreamy look in her eyes when she remembered that night, "He was so patient. I was worried I'd disappoint him, but he didn't rush me or tease me."

_On the other side of the clearing, Zevran felt a warm glow in his chest, thinking of her. "She was so afraid. I could feel her trembling in my arms."_

"He was so gentle," she put her hand over her heart. "I didn't realize how tender he could be."

_"She was so shy," he smirked. "For all her fire, her touch was timid, always asking, 'is this right'."_

"He never pushed me. Never coerced."

_"She explored my body, asking questions, savoring each caress."_

"He was funny. He joked about wearing the blindfold, but never questioned why he wore it or tried to take it off."

_"She was so warm, so soft."_

"He was so strong, so beautiful."

_"Her curves fit my hands so easily."_

"His voice filled my ears, intoxicating."

_"It was hard to breathe…"_

"…hard to think…"

_"I just felt."_

"I just was."

_"Her body was arching."_

"He called out my name."

_"I could feel her heart beating."_

"I watched his face reflecting his ecstasy."

_"The tension climbed…"_

"…my heart clenched…"

_"…everything tightened…"_

"…I held onto him…"

"…and at that moment, when my world was coming undone,  
I let go and felt wash over me that sweet surrender…"

A feeling of peace and contentment flowed among all of the companions as they listened to the stories being told. For two souls, each with their own fears and scars, to find each other amidst such war and death made them believe, no matter how fleeting, that love might truly conquer all. They held onto that sentiment, barring thoughts of cynicism and doubt from their minds for as long as they could. It was to be their light in dark places.


	17. Whistling in the Dark

When Zevran woke, silence had enveloped the cavern, heavy and thick, making his ears ring. He brushed his hand across the empty space next to him. Puzzling. What did he expect to be there? Everyone else was still asleep. He rubbed his face vigorously. Ever since the other night, he had been out of sorts. Usually, after a tumble, his mind was clear and more focused. This time, however, he was even more tangled up than before.

Her warmth, her scent, the feel of her body under his fingertips, her legs straddling him, all of it came back in a rush that made him dizzy. Zevran pulled his knees to his chest. Inside it felt like someone had struck a tuning fork letting it vibrate painful and unharnessed up and down his biceps. A stubby cold nose pressed into the crook of his elbow. Ashfur whined low. "Buenos noches, amigo," he put his arm around the Mabari. "Come to say 'hello'?"

Ashfur's brow was furrowed, and his big brown eyes showed concern the only way an animal can. He licked Zevran's face lightly all up and down his tattoos. The quick flicks of the doggy tongue tickled and comforted, making Zevran smile in spite of the chaos swirling in his chest. He kissed Ashfur's broad head, "Thank you."

The Mabari indicated with a turn of his head for Zevran to look towards the watch post the team had set up. Alyssa was facing out into the webwork of tunnels leading away from the cavern they had claimed. She always seemed to be on guard duty even when the others were having their turn. More than once, she had relieved someone before their shift was up, or she would wait with them, staying awake for longer than anyone else. Control. Always control with her.

Zevran dragged his feet as he approached as not to startle her. "Copper for your thoughts?" Ashfur was not far behind.

She smiled and motioned for him to sit with her. The sour shiver that wracked him was quieted as soon as she looked at him. It vanished as he slipped into the space she created for him by lifting her arm and settling against the Mabari. Safe. With her, he always felt safe, probably because of that constant control she emanated. When he tried to put his arm behind her to draw her closer, Alyssa moved away, "No, don't."

There it was again, the same protective way she held herself after the Dalish attack. It was quite some time since then, and for a healer of her caliber, that wound should have closed. However, she had rules, and he obeyed without question. Zevran instead tucked into her side, nuzzling her generous bosom.

Instead of feeling her embrace as he expected, Alyssa stiffened and moved slightly away. There was a coldness to her he hadn't seen before now. Frustration, yes, even anger frequently, but this was ice. It was as if the Deep Roads found its way into her heart. Zevran wanted to ask if she was ok, but the tension between them gave him pause. The only sound was the distant drip of water far off in the darkness, marking the long length of silence wedging itself between them.

"I lied to you."

When Alyssa finally spoke, it startled him. Zevran felt his stomach jump unpleasantly at the sudden sound. "You know I am the last person to judge, cara." Besides, he had enough secrets to keep from her as well. He listened to her heartbeat, feeling the rise and fall of her chest, and waited for her to continue.

"I'm really a coward."

He snorted, "And Ashfur is really two dwarves in a dog suit." The Mabari grumbled.

"I mean it," she moved further from him and pulled her knees to her chest.

"Why do you say that?" He frowned as he watched her retreat into herself. It wasn't like this the other night. Now it was cold stone and stale air that surrounded him, reflected in the Warden.

Alyssa said, "My whole life I've been running from something. Templars, guards, people wanting to turn me in. Even…," she swallowed hard. Whatever she was going to say, she changed. "I can't do that anymore. If I ran from the darkspawn, many would die, and they would find me sooner or later."

Zevran realized this was a confession. "You're not running anymore. What you and Alistair are doing is not something a coward would do. No coward are you, my bravest of Wardens."

"Don't do that," she snapped.

He flinched. "I'm sorry?" The edge to her voice was usually reserved for people like Isolde.

Alyssa whipped her head around, snarling at him, "Don't patronize me. I'm doing what I have to because if I don't, there will be nowhere left to run. That's not brave. If I could have pushed this off on the first idiot I saw I would have. I'll bet all that crap about 'only Grey Wardens can stop the Blight' was a load of horse-shit as well." She punched the ground with her fist.

His stomach twisted. "Cara, this isn't like you. Where is this coming from?" Zevran reached a hand out to touch her shoulder. Something must be wrong for her to act like this. They hadn't seen the sun in days, but he suspected that there was more to it. There had to be.

She slapped it roughly away. "Shut up!" Alyssa shouted. "Don't call me that! I know what I am, and I don't need your pity or anyone else's." Again she curled into herself, glaring at Zevran and Ashfur before clenching her eyes shut and turning away.

Zevran sneered, "Yes, of course, it is I who pities you." He stood up and crossed his arms, but even though he thought about leaving, something made him stay.

"Why do you care anyway? I didn't ask you to follow me."

"No, but you enjoy having someone following you around constantly. Here I thought Alistair was enough of a pet for you." It was out of his mouth before he could stop it. He usually wouldn't be so harsh, but if she wasn't pulling punches, neither would he.

Alyssa jumped to her feet and advanced on him, "Don't you dare—"

"I do dare!" Zevran shouted back at her and squared his shoulders. She wouldn't intimidate him, not this time. "Not only do you insult me, but you do a disservice to those who follow you. The worst of it is a disservice to you. I do not know why you reserve the harshest words for yourself, and you a free to keep your secrets, but do not ever think that I pity anyone, least of all you." He advanced when she backed up. "Do you not see how far we have come under your leadership? You honestly think that without your diplomacy any of this would be possible?"

"You said I needed to learn how to fight." Alyssa wasn't meeting his eyes anymore, but her teeth were still clenched.

"I stand by that, but do not let that blind you to the strength that you do have." Isabella's advice came back to him, and he finally understood what she had meant. "In my experience, courage is being afraid but acting in spite of it. Only the stupid and the dead are without fear." He wasn't sure if Alyssa believed him.

It was a few moments of silence before Alyssa scoffed and smiled. "When did you get so wise?"

"I can't take credit for that," he said. Zevran felt his stomach knots loosen." A friend at The Pearl gave me a different perspective."

"Oh, …right. I had forgotten about that."

Her expression was still closed, making it difficult for him to read her. Was she still angry or disappointed? Maybe the idea of him being with other lovers was more than she could manage. "Nothing happened there, cara."

"I told you to go, remember?" Alyssa met his eyes, and the softness had returned. “Besides, I don’t care about that.” Her shoulders sagged, and she stepped toward him, closing the distance between them but only to arm's length.

More time without words passed between them, and when he finally responded, he noticed that he was holding his breath, "Why?"

She nodded and took a deep breath. As she spoke, she wasn't able to look at Zevran for long. "I run from everything. I ran from my past, and I ran from you. Part of me hoped you wouldn't want me after visiting The Pearl, and after I walked away, there was an overwhelming urge to run back to you. It surprised me and it had nothing to do with jealousy. In spite of that, I kept away, like always."

Zevran remembered how he felt the same, but instead of relief, there was hesitation.

Alyssa continued, gesticulating with her arms and pacing, "I would have kept running if I could, but the Blight got in the way. It was comfortable to keep you at a distance through all the flirting, and travel, and banter. Letting anyone get close to me always meant waiting for them to be taken from me or leave me. I learned to keep my affections and my loyalties fluid. After years of that, never knowing if I would ever stop being alone, I was too afraid to risk thinking that someone would stay.” She shook her head and scoffed. "The night we shared...I stopped running just for a bit. You caught me, and it was incredible. And terrifying. After when my brain caught up to me, I realized that I opened this door that I didn't think I could close—”

"Cara, wait," Zevran held up a hand to stop her, "I would never ask more than you are willing to give, you know this to be true." He could feel his insides trembling as he spoke and wondered if he was doing the right thing. "But remember, I am the son of a whore and an assassin. What you are asking, at least what I think you are asking, I know nothing of."

Before Zevran could continue and Alyssa could react, Ashfur let out a groan so loud and disgruntled that it startled both of them. With his right hind leg, he kicked the back of Zevran's knee, spilling him into Alyssa's open arms and barked twice sharply at them.

Zevran looked at Ashfur, mouth agape, "Maker's breath!"

"I think he just called us assholes..." Alyssa said.

Ashfur nodded. After a good scratch behind the ear and another frustrated grunt, the Mabari threw himself back down on the ground to finish his nap.

The two of them tried their level best to keep their laughter to a series of stifled snickering, not knowing how far sound traveled in the tunnels, but the giggles were winning. "Shhh!" Alyssa hissed, "I don't want another lecture."

Zevran's sides were aching from holding in the laughter, and when it subsided, he felt Alyssa cup his cheek. She had the softest brown eyes he'd ever remember seeing, so easy to get lost in, and dangerous because of it. "How about this," she whispered, "I will also not ask more than you can give. Then maybe we can both stop running so hard?"

A high pitched screech from the bowels of the tunnels behind them ripped through the quiet of the caverns. It was far off enough that they were in no immediate danger, but it was a harsh reminder of the threat that lurked all around them hidden in the depths of the earth.


	18. Any Means Necessary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning(?): Traumatic battle scene using blood magic.

Darkness was closing in around her. Being down in the bowels of the earth, nothing but towering stone and lava flows for miles and miles, Alyssa was sure she would never see the sun again. It was a tomb and worse. The things in the deep were very much alive. They could see, they could smell, they could hear her footsteps no matter how muted by the leather boots she wore. Something was creeping into her, filling her with doubt and terror. Her head was riddled with images of her friends being crushed to death, her own blood being squeezed from her body should that rock ceiling decide to come crashing down. A few of the tunnels were so narrow they had to turn sideways and inch through with hard stone touching their noses. The confined space made her itch under the skin where she couldn't scratch.

Her temper became short, and she could feel nothing but crushing dread all around her. Even Zevran's passion couldn't reach her. He tried to comfort her, but she ended up pushing him away. The team barely spoke to each other. Since there was no time underground, there was no way to tell how long they stayed silent, but it felt like days. It could have been only hours. Even so, she had to force herself to feel anything other than imprisoned. Orders were given in short sentences as if it strained her to speak. If the others felt the same, she paid no heed. Fear was consuming her.

The Darkspawn were different down here. They were bolder and more ferocious. She was able to put her shapeshifting to the test time and time again. Even Morrigan remarked on how much progress she was making, however, any confidence left in her was shattered when she met Hespith. As the dwarf told her story in twisted poetic verse, Alyssa's eyes grew wider, her heart racing with each stanza. The other women were visibly upset as well. They shifted where they stood or moved away from everyone else and hugging their arms around their chests. Alistair tried to comfort Leliana, but she slapped at his hand and shuddered. The darkspawn killed the men and kept the women.

They kept them.

They trapped them in grotesque bodies.

They forced them to birth darkspawn day and night until their bodies gave out from exhaustion.

Alistair swallowed hard, but since Alyssa made no move to speak or guide the rest of them, he took the lead, "We have to keep going." They obeyed in grim silence, cutting their way closer to the heart of the forgotten thaig.

"...she grinned and devoured her kin..."

Black corruption lined the tunnel walls with its filth, oozing out disease with a pungent stink. They walked further on.

"...we hated as she was violated..."

Alyssa commanded her body to still.

"...brood-mother..."

When they rounded that last corner, Alyssa felt the bottom of her stomach drop out. A giant blob of grey and pink with tentacles thrashing out of all sides spread across a large cavern with four tunnels leading off in different directions, each one stuffed with darkspawn.

Brood-mother.

The word echoed through the terrified mind of the mage Warden, mouth agape as she stared up at the monstrosity writhing before her. A war cry from Alistair, Sten, and Oghren shook her loose from its thrall. Alyssa cast barriers around the melee combatants before they broke upon the tide of darkspawn. Fire and ice rained down on the battlefield as arrows from the bard's bow found their target with deadly accuracy. Poisoned daggers sunk deep into the enemy, skulls cracked under the weight of axes and swords. All the while, the mage Warden, when not in bear form, showered the group with regenerative magic. Tentacles fell, darkspawn exploded, deeplurkers met their fate in tooth and claw.

More surged from the tunnels.

The team kept pressing the enemy with steel, shaft, and sorcery. The two healers spent themselves thin, desperately trying to keep their comrades going. Blood smeared the floor in streaks and puddles, decorating the walls and combatants. Ashfur was struck down by a thrash from the Brood-mother, but Wynne was on hand with saving grace. The pup was back on his feet and into the fray. Enemy arrows sang through the air piercing Leliana's aiming arm. She was spun around by the force of it and clamored to get away. Alyssa pulled the three missiles from her arm. No sooner was the healing done than Leliana was firing again in rapid succession.

More surged from the tunnels.

Alistair skewed countless deeplurkers with his longsword. His plate-mail was coated in black and red blood. Three genlocks attacked his flank only to be crushed by Sten's massive broadsword. Oghren charged through the middle making pudding out of anything in his path, such was his berserker rage. There was an elegant ballet being performed by the former Crow assassin as he slipped in and out of shadow, rendering bone from sinew with flashes of his lethal blades. Morrigan spewed venom in the face of the Brood-mother, her pincers glistening death in the half-light.

More surged from the tunnels.

It was too much. For every one that fell, six raced to fill the empty space. Bodies piled up. There was less and less room to step. The Brood-mother swiped at Morrigan, sending her crashing into a far wall and breaking her concentration. She tried to stand, but couldn't force her legs to carry her weight. Oghren was overwhelmed by the surge of deeplurkers. The only visible parts of him were flailing arms and legs as he went under in a flurry of snapping jaws. Alistair and Sten were bleeding heavily from gashes on their faces and metal armor that had been pierced through. Wynne and Leliana were back to back, working to fend off another onslaught of hurlocks that had them surrounded. Zevran and Ashfur were nowhere in sight.

More surged from the tunnels.

They were losing.

In the middle of the carnage stood the Grey Warden Mage holding her staff in front of her, clutching it with one hand above the other. Red and black blood bubbled up from under her feet, emitting an eerie glow in the cavern, reeking of death and metal. It rose in blades of sticky hot spent life sharpening to a razor's edge forcing the incoming enemy to halt in its tracks. A crimson light enveloped her as the blood hardened and turned parallel to the ground. The cavern was illuminated by the light of blood magic. With a massive crack, the shards of blood exploded outward, impaling everything that was not a friend. They ripped through the darkspawn like needles through tissue-paper and felled them like blades of grass.

Alyssa slammed her hand on the ground feeling the ooze squish between her fingers. Energy surged forward through the gore towards the Brood-mother and from the slime burst forth massive blood spikes hard as stone shredding the monster from the inside out. The crimson glow around the Warden slowly faded out, returning the cavern to its gloomy half-light. She was diminished now, the blood power all spent.

Silence crept into the room. The only living things present were the companions that had been through so much together. Now they stared at her, some open-mouthed, some with wide-eyed terror. When she fell to her knees, no one came to steady her.

Alyssa knew she had broken an unspoken covenant.


	19. Forgive Me Maker for I Have Sinned

**Oghren**

I don't know what the sodding deal is. We won. We crowned that brat Aeducan king. And Branka…well that mess is over with at least.

The Grey Wardens lived up to the hype, especially the mage. Never seen power like that before and a good thing she acted too. We all would have been meeting our ancestors if she hadn't cut through that, whatever the hell it was. When we got back to Orzammar to choose who would be king, she didn't say anything. In fact, after the battle she didn't speak at all. The rest of them looked took shaken to deal with things, so I spoke up. Never liked Harrowmont anyway. Too stuck in the old ways, but makes no difference now I suppose.

There's not enough ale 'n' tail in Orzammar to make me go through the Deep Roads again. Can't believe it was a dwarf. How could Branka…

Sod it, I need another drink.

* * *

**Sten**

This country is too free with its mages. The saarebas should be restrained after what it did. Nothing good will come of this, only destruction. Yet the saarebas is still unbound.

This is not the way of the Qun.

* * *

**Leliana**

She terrifies me. I never thought she would, but that was before I saw her use blood magic.

How could she? It goes against the Maker, against what she, herself, believes but she did it anyway! I try to understand. I didn't want to be violated by the darkspawn, twisted into a Broodmother, birthing spawn and bile, any more than the others, but to turn to blood magic?

I've been bathing since we left Orzammar, scrubbing every chance I get and I never feel clean.

Maybe I'm being a hypocrite. I've sent far more to their deaths, none of it free from sin.

Still, what if she craves more power? What if she decides it's easier to control us than to guide us?

Maker, protect me.

Maker, forgive me.

* * *

**Wynne**

I've never seen such reckless behavior. A mage of her standing should know better especially after she saw the havoc it caused in the Circle Tower!

How could she? How could she put us all at risk like that? In my darkest hours, I never turned to any demon or blood magic seduction. For someone who claims to be a healer, she turned to the forbidden arts quickly enough. I wonder if she was always like this and just feigning altruistic.

Maybe…maybe I'm being unkind.

Maybe all the good that she has done and the lives she has saved outweigh this one act of madness.

My worry is the taste of power. Incredible destruction and violation come at the hands of blood mages. I have seen enough of my friends made tranquil for lesser offenses. I think back on Conner, Irving, Zathrian, even the young castless dwarf. She helped all of them with no expectation of reward. She helped because it was the compassionate thing to do. I just hope it's her compassion that will override the sway of blood magic.

I hope she is that strong.

* * *

**Ashfur**

My lady has sad. Cannot help. Want help, but cannot. I has sad.

My lady strong. Saved me, saved friends.

Friends has afraid. Friends stay away from my lady. Not understand. My lady mends. My lady saves. My lady loves. Not understand.

Elf-friend has sad. So much sad. My lady and elf-friend apart. Before, always together, now apart. Be together. Not understand.

I comfort elf-friend now. I comfort my lady after, I hope.

* * *

**Alistair**

I wonder if I ever knew her at all. From day one she's kept her secrets, telling only bits and pieces. She could have been a blood mage all along! How would we know? The little girl act was a perfect cover, wasn't it? She'd play all sweetness and light and like an idiot, I ate it up. Now who's mistrustful? I opened up to her, baring all of my secrets, risking losing her friendship and she still won't let me in!

Maybe that's a good thing. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea to have a wall between us. Less chance of her snaking into my mind and controlling me from the inside out.

I loved her. Now I don't know what she could be hiding.

She hasn't spoken since Orzammar. Since the Broodmother, really. Oghren had to speak for us when we presented the crown. I had no stomach for it. Too sick with what I had seen to care about anything but putting distance between us and the Deep Roads. She never took her eyes off the floor.

I feel like I'm dying inside. I miss my little sister, but I'm afraid of her. If she ever hurts Leliana, I'll…If she dares touch a hair on her head I'll…

I'll kill her. I would.

And I would hate myself forever.

* * *

**Morrigan**

Mother showed me blood magic when I was young. The power of it horrified me at first, but I was able to get used to it. She said, 'Power in and of itself is neither good nor evil. It is the wielders who make it so.'

I trust Alyssa. She is…nothing like me. He light is bright and true. There is no reason for the others to fear her, but what can be said to change the minds of the willfully ignorant. They are content to cast blame without realizing what she sacrificed to save them.

A healer using blood magic. I do not envy her. Her conscience will haunt her steps for the rest of her life.

Besides, we all have our secrets.

* * *

**Zevran**

I was frightened for her. Her eyes…her eyes were red. Not to say it was the color of her eyes. Rather, the brown irises rested in a field of red. She looked almost possessed by another soul. Like the Arl's boy, except she was the only entity housed in her body. It is hard to describe because it was so confusing to see. She was still there, thinking and seeing. It made the harsh words from the day before almost meaningless, seeing her wield such a terrible force against a horde of enemies.

I thought I had lost her to the madness.

After we met, I regarded her as too soft, vulnerable because she would not fight. Yet it was that tenderness I kept seeking out. Why I do not know.

I did not understand how great an effort it was holding back that kind of power. How strong she is. Part of me wonders why she would want to deal with me at all.

A good-for-nothing snake that allies himself with the biggest and strongest to save his own hide.

A leech.

But this is not about me. Not this time. For once in my life, I feel part of something bigger than myself. Because of her, I can dare to look back and say 'her' name once more even though my sin can never, should never, be forgiven.

Rinna.

She said things like that. She asked me once, 'Don't you wish you could be more? Shine brighter? You could be part of something greater than this.'

I haven't been able to think of her in a long time. Not after I abandoned her. Not after I betrayed her. Something about Alyssa, I don't know, I think something healed? Is that right? Is it even possible or am I just fooling myself?

Now it is not important, because right now it isn't about me. If Alyssa is to come out on the other side of this, she will need a reason.

I hope I am worthy enough to help her find it. Me, the son of whore and product of assassins.

I might not be enough.

* * *

**Alyssa**

Duncan should have left me there.


	20. The Only Way Out is Through

It was Wynne's turn to cook. Morrigan served up two bowls of the tantalizing vegetable soup that was bubbling away in the cooking pot. Her eyes scanned the camp for Alyssa. Since the mess in Orzammar, the Warden had kept a low profile not speaking to anyone, keeping to herself, and taking watch alone. The others seemed fine with this, relieved even. Fools. The fact that they were alive and able to avoid her should be a reason for celebration alone. She shook her head and joined the Warden on her solitary guard.

"You need to eat," Morrigan shoved a bowl into Alyssa's lap before taking a seat next to her.

Alyssa stared off into the darkness. "Not hungry."

"You're being childish," she said. "Depriving yourself of food will help no one. You are a Grey Warden, start acting like one." Morrigan forced a spoon and a hard chunk of bread into her hand.

Alyssa gazed into the soup, swirling a corner of the bread in it. There were dark circles under her eyes. She probably hadn't been sleeping well, if at all. "Don't you ever get tired of being right?" Slowly, the shadow of a smile formed on her face.

Good. Alyssa wasn't as stupid as Morrigan thought. "Tomorrow, we continue your training. I think you're ready for the more advanced—"

"No!" Alyssa plunked the bowl down in front of her, spilling some over the lip of the bowl. She gestured as she spoke, "No training, no fighting, no more magic."

"Are you insane? You can't just put down your magic. It's a part of you."

"I won't risk losing control again. I could end up hurting someone."

"That's the whole point," Morrigan scoffed. "You're supposed to hurt people who want to hurt you. I thought we went through this already."

"I'm not cut out to be a Warden. Duncan made a mistake."

Morrigan slapped the back of Alyssa's head. Her shout drew the attention of the others. "Shut up, you stupid girl! Finish your food and meet me in the clearing. If you say one more word, I'll set you on fire, do you understand?"

She nodded vigorously, staring at Morrigan with wide eyes.

"I won't let you wallow in self-pity just because you had a bad day. You are stronger than this. You are better than this. I'll not have you reduced to a simpering wretch. It's pathetic and exhausting. Ten minutes!"

"Yes, ma'am!"

Disgraceful. The only way out of this mess was straight through it, and if she couldn't handle it, then what good would following her to the archdemon do?

Before Morrigan got back to her side of camp, she was stopped by Wynne. "I do hope you won't be training her any further." Both mages had come to a brusk, but mutually respectful relationship during their travels together. However, this was territory in which Morrigan was far more knowledgeable. She guessed that if Wynne had her way, Alyssa would have been made tranquil already.

"Stay out of it, old woman." Morrigan glared. "You know nothing of this."

Wynne would not be dismissed so quickly, "She is a blood mage. She doesn't need more aggressive spells. She needs to learn control."

"Control is all she knows! She was cornered. She fought back. Should we condemn her for that?" Morrigan refused to be bullied by the preachy Circle mage.

"Her actions put us all in jeopardy."

"How fortunate we have the privilege of being able to argue about it."

Wynne paused for a moment. Her face softened, "What happened at the Circle is still too near. The thrall of blood magic is so tempting, so powerful. I fear that she will get hooked on that feeling and crave more and more of it. Before you know it, she'll be fording a river of death, possibly leaving people she once loved in her wake." She swallowed hard, her face strained with worry. "It is so tempting to submit to the easy nature of destruction instead of working with the power of creation. I don't think you give blood magic enough credit for its power."

"I don't think you give Alyssa enough credit for hers," Morrigan said. She nodded, "I do understand your fear, but if you believe that one taste of that magic is all it takes, then she will need our guidance and our support. All of us! So that she has the strength to resist and a reason to work with creation."

It was as if the burden the elder mage carried was suddenly shared. The witch hated to admit it, but Wynne was right just as much as she. There needed to be balance in the Warden, and there was none. Ignoring that hard fact wouldn't solve anything.

If she was waiting around for a hug, she'd be waiting forever. A delicate nod was all Morrigan would give. Really, the unnecessary touching was just...ick!

* * *

Alyssa was stopped by Wynne on her way to meeting Morrigan for training. "Warden, would you humor me for a while?"

She felt a cold sweat break out on the back of her neck, "Yes." She braced herself for the worst. Yelling, lectures, could...could she be grounded at this age? No. She lost the right to be light-hearted when she... Never mind.

"How are you, my dear?" Wynne squeezed her arm gently and smiled.

"I..." Alyssa was taken aback, "I'm ok? I think?" What was she playing at?

"Have you been able to sleep at all since…," Wynne looked away for a moment.

Alyssa finished for her. "Yeah, a little."

They stood in silence, awkwardly looking elsewhere or rubbing their arms. The tension was palpable. Finally, Alyssa broke the silence, "I'm not a blood mage. Yes, I used blood magic, but it was...horrible." She shuddered. "It felt like everything dark and hateful welled up inside me, threatening to take me over and tear everything apart. That's not what I am, Wynne. I don't ever want that."

"What do you want?" Wynne asked.

Alyssa smiled, "A little house by the sea, with a pen full of sheep and a little plot of land to grow strawberries and lettuce. Leave everything behind and just escape. Grab Zevran and Ashfur and run off somewhere the Wardens, the Crows, and responsibility can’t find us. So much for that," she shrugged.

Wynne exhaled deeply, worry lines smoothing back from her face. "That is so good to hear, you say. Well, not the running away part."

"I know," she laughed. "Don't worry. I have a job to do. I won't run. Not this time." Her chest didn't feel so heavy anymore. If Wynne could understand, if she could trust again, maybe the others could too? Baby steps. It wasn't like she took the last strip of bacon from the cart, and this might even be beyond the healing power of bacon. Was it too soon to be funny? It felt wrong still.

"I think you should talk to everyone together," Wynne said, pulling Alyssa's thoughts back. "They're all a little scared or confused. I can't tell which. No one has been talking to each other or laughing like we used to. It's not good for morale."

Alyssa nodded. "I have a lot of explaining to do, I suppose." She said after a pause, "Wynne?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Wynne smiled, "You're welcome."

* * *

Alyssa wondered if the group gathered out of curiosity or fear about what she would do if they didn't. Or because together they could overpower her. She pushed the thoughts from her mind. If she wanted their trust, she would have to trust them too.

No more secrets.  No more half-truths.

She told them how her father died, beaten at the hands of the Denerim Guards. She told them how Lord Bennett had trapped her, had her tortured. She told them why she jumped from the roof and how Duncan saved her. When she finished, she folded her hands in her lap, "If you have questions, I'll answer as best I can."

Oghren hadn't touched his ale since she started talking. He was the first one to speak, "You didn't die from that? How?"

"My mother trained me in medicine and healing magic. I can't remember how I learned the self-healing technique. I guess it just sort of came to me?"

Wynne responded, "It is possible for someone who is aligned with the healing school of magic to have their bodies, how can I put this?" She thought for a moment. "When you can do something really well, sewing, crafting, cooking, your fingers know what they need to do."

He nodded. He was actually paying attention, hanging on Alyssa's every word. It was…so not him. She elaborated. "It's the same with healing magic. The energy that flows through the body that is used for such a purpose 'learns' how to manifest."

"Is that why fire surrounds you in anger?" Sten asked.

Alyssa nodded her head, "Sort of. Healing magic has an intimate aspect to it and taps into the wielder's feelings. When I get angry enough, that comes out as heat, and I learned how to control that over time so only I'm affected. As a kid, it was more destructive…"

Oghren said, "So did, eh, what was his name?"

"Duncan," Alistair said.

"Right. Did he fix you up?"

"He took me to the Chantry hospital actually," Alyssa said. A few eyebrows rose. "I don't know how many days I was unconscious, but when I woke up, there were several Templars and Lord Bennett near the foot of my bed. Duncan was invoking the Rite of Conscription. At first, I thought it was out of pity for me. It wasn't until later that I realized he wanted my healing power."

Wynne asked, "Did that bother you?"

"I took a swan dive off a fourth-floor roof to avoid a monster," she said. "If I had to eat a box of nails to get away from him, I would have. As a Grey Warden, at least I would have a chance to help people."

They were silent for a time. It was hard for Alyssa to tell what they were thinking. The stars above were glittering, and the fire crackling cheerfully was the only sound filling the gloom. Alistair broke the silence, "You could have used blood magic then. Why didn't you?" he looked straight at her, pinning her with his stare. His mouth was set in a grim line, so unlike his usual jovial manner. For a moment, Alyssa mourned the loss of her Alistair and hoped it was only temporary.

"A few reasons," she said. "First off, it's always easier for me to be someone else's champion and harder to be my own." She looked away, but he was still watching her. "The first week, I thought it would be over soon. How long could he put someone through that? The second week I thought someone would come for me, because they must have heard my screaming, right?" Alyssa closed her eyes and exhaled, "The third week, I thought I could get loose from the bonds, so I tried several enchantments, but nothing freed me. He saw that I was a mage by this point. I don't know if it made things worse." She closed her eyes but kept talking, "The fourth week, I thought I would die soon, or I hoped I would." Alyssa stilled; the same eerie stillness that would take over when the realness was just too much to bear. "The fifth week, I thought nothing." Again there was a heavy pause. She expected, hoped, that Alistair would take her in his arms again like he did the first time she tried to tell him what happened. He didn't.

Morrigan broke the silence this time. "If you hadn't used blood magic then, why did you use it in the Deep Roads?"

"This was different," Alyssa looked up at her. "We were being overrun. If we died, nothing would stand between Ferelden and the Blight."

"I know Duncan would say 'any means necessary,'" Alistair said, running his hands through his hair and holding the back of his head. "But Alyssa, blood magic? It's so extreme."

"I don't want to use it again," she reassured. "That power was out of control. I didn't feel like myself, and it scared me."

"I don't believe you." Every head in the camp turned to the person who spoke. It was Leliana. "I don't believe a word of it. You could be using your magic right now to convince us that what you're saying is true, and we wouldn't even know it!"

Tears sprang to Alyssa's eyes. Her voice was strained, "I wouldn't do that, Leliana, you know that!"

"I don't know you at all," she leaped to her feet and made for her tent.

Morrigan sighed, "Did anyone else catch the irony there?"

"Shut up," Alistair rose to his feet, "don't make it worse." This time he did go to Alyssa, kneeling by her side and drying her tears. "Let me talk to her."

"Don't. I don't want anyone convincing Leliana. This is something I have to prove by deed, not word." Her shoulders started to shake, and she covered her face. Alistair wrapped his arms around her, murmuring to her.

It would be ok.

He was sorry this happened.

He thanked her for saving his life and begged her not to turn to blood magic ever again. She couldn't answer for the sobbing. He smoothed back her hair, and when she could finally speak, she whispered, "Is Zevran still here?"

Alistair grimaced in sorrow, "No. He left some time ago."

She buried her face in his shirt and cried bitterly.

* * *

Zevran was going to kill him.

As soon as they got to Denerim, he was going to find this Bennett culo and kill him. That was all there was to it. No grand display of anger. No dramatic speeches. Only a sharp blade laced with the most pain-inducing poison he had on hand dragged across that bastard's throat. He would watch him bleed for a while and then leave. Done and dusted, as his old Crow master used to say.

After she had finished her story, he had made up his mind what he was going to do. Ashfur had gone with him. Good thing too. Though Zevran's eyes were keen even in the dark, the Mabari could see the ground better. Ashfur helped Zevran get his footing through the undergrowth as they traveled further into the forest. He knew exactly what he was looking for, and the glow from the moon above, swollen to fullness, lit his way.

Finally, he knew why his amor felt the need to hide herself. He understood why she felt such shame. He would fix it. He was good at fixing things like this. Just as he helped Isabella take her ship, he would help Alyssa take back whatever was stolen from her. Confidence? Spirit? Those weren't the right words. She always had that. Something was missing, but it was hard to name it. Zevran thought of what he knew of her, what he adored about her until he figured it out.

Her light.

Finding the word he was looking for, so did he find the place he was traveling to. "Perfect." He drew his blades and went to work.

* * *

Alyssa trudged back to her tent, all cried out and exhausted. Alistair held her the whole time. There was no way she would ever use blood magic again, not risking that perfect love that she had with her brother-in-arms. At least she hoped she could keep that promise. If it meant extra sessions with Morrigan, so bet it. If it involved additional training with Wynne to boost her shielding and defensive spells, that was fine. It was so late, and she was so weary, and Zevran was still nowhere to be found. He probably decided that taking his chances with the Crows was better than traveling with a blood mage.

She felt a stab in her chest. By saving Zevran's life, she lost his love, and it was ripping her to shreds. All these melancholy thoughts tumbled in her head Alyssa crawled into her tent.

"Buenas noches, mi amor."

Alyssa nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of Zevran's voice. Her emotions were so raw that the shock almost made her burst into tears. Seeing him sprawled out in her tent, with nothing but a worn blanket stretched across his lap, confused the hell out of her. A hysterical giggle escaped. "What the fu…" He was surrounded by flowers. She had created a spell that allowed small pinpoints of light to illuminate the tent, saving the trouble of candles. It was the only way she could see.

They weren't your typical roses and daisies. These were small, delicate things linked by green tendrils winding around each of the tent's flimsy excuses for poles and hanging from the ceiling. Usually, a girl would be all aflutter at seeing her 'room' decorated with flowers, but these?

Along the floor, there were stems of foxglove in a rainbow of colors, their delicate blossoms slender and soft. Mixed in were bouquets of belladonna and lily of the valley, bunches of tiny purple and white flowers cuddling together. Further up the tent were different kinds of horn-shaped flowers of nightshade and angel's trumpet hanging in clusters along with white oleander and mistletoe. She stared in awe. This was the most deadly collection of poisonous flowers she had ever seen in her life, and yet she was not scared or repulsed. "Zevran," she whispered as if raising her voice any more would wake the silent killers, "do you know what these are?"

He nodded, "They are the tools of my trade and the texts from which you will learn if you so choose."

"But," she crawled further into the tent, staring at the blossoms, "but why?" Alyssa ran the tips of her fingers along the foxglove petals. The multi-colored blooms bounced in the low light. A heady scent filled the cozy space, making her feel warm and drowsy.

Zevran brushed the back of his hand against her cheek, "Life and death are two sides of the same coin. To have mastery over both, you must understand both." He guided her eyes to his. Gold locked with brown. She saw the same predator now as she did the first night when he was taken prisoner. The heat from his skin so close to hers. Light-catching the sinuous lines of the tattoos on his face, shoulders, and running underneath the folds of his blanket. He ran his thumb along her bottom lip. "Up until now, my beautiful Grey Warden, you have only studied life, the restoration and protection of it. It has become necessary to study her twin so you may master that as well and become stronger in each school."

It was getting tough to think, what with her heart racing and the blood pounding in her ears. Her desires were sparked as she remembered Zevran's touch on her body, running his hands over… "Hang on," she shook her head, "all of these plants kill. How is that going to strengthen my healing? I don't see the connection."

He stroked the pink slipper flowers. "Too much of the demure foxglove can stop a man's heart or make it burst open. Just the right amount can regulate the beat of the sick, saving him."

He cupped star-shaped white blooms in his palm. "The sap of this beauty, oleander, constricts the blood and damages the nerves. Death is long and painful, ending in a shuddering moan. However, a skilled alchemist can treat those with wasting diseases for which we are without names." He pointed to clusters of white berries nestled in thick dark green leaves with points on the ridges. "Mistletoe has the same effect."

He tickled tiny purple buds that were paired with the delicate pearl-shaped petals of the lily of the valley. "Deadly nightshade, they dubbed this little terror. In Antiva, it goes by the name belladonna. It can calm the most incredible pain, but too much of it will wrap you in an eternal slumber."

Zevran turned his golden gaze back to her. "These plants can be used for life or death. It is the balance of those two elements that give them their awesome power."

Alyssa pointed to the angel's trumpet and lily of the valley, "What about these and the others you didn't mention? What can they heal?"

"Absolutely nothing."

"So why show them to me?"

"Which are you more impressed by? The blooms that only destroy utterly or the ones that hold sway over both creation and destruction?"

Her eyes lit up. She finally understood. This was why she needed to learn combative magic, why she needed to face death instead of warding it or running from it.

He must have seen the 'ah-ha' moment on her face because he grinned like the cat who got the pigeon. "Now, my sweet terosa, are you willing to become my student?"

"Yes, master," she smiled, blushing deeply and enjoying the thrill of passion shimmying up and down her legs.

"Good. Lesson number one: Let go of that which you fear. Embrace it, and it cannot hurt you."

Alyssa paused. What could she do that would be an embrace of fear? There was no immediate threat, deadly flower laced tents notwithstanding. How could she learn from this? It came to her then, and she frowned. He didn't run when she used forbidden magic, and he didn't run when she told her story in full. She did as instructed.

Alyssa turned her back to him and pushed the dark blue robes from her shoulders. With a hard swallow, she pulled the black cloth under armor up over her head, baring her back to him. It had been so long since she could stand to look at the damage through clouded grimy mirrors. There was no telling how bad it was. No telling how ripped up and mangled her back looked. Silence.

She felt warm lips kissing her skin tenderly, slowly, wandering up and down her wounds. Every inch of her was touched by his mouth, from her shoulders to her tail bone. Now and then, he would flick his tongue against her. After every five or six kisses, he would whisper, 'Mi bella. Mi amor. Mi terosa.' The soft pat of her tears against her robes filled the space in between his words of adoration. Her voice was heavy, "What is lesson number two?"

"Mi amor," Zevran gently tipped her against his outstretched arms and gazed into her eyes, "for today, class is dismissed." Relief flooded her as his lips met hers. She closed her eyes, embracing the desire awakening inside her as his hand traveled down her body.


	21. Proof by Word and Deed

**Leliana**

The majesty of Andraste's Temple was unlike anything Leliana had ever seen. Fluted stone columns stood sentinel in two rows lining the main hall and reached the vaulted ceiling above vanishing in a haze of ice and snow. If Brother Genitive hadn't been so dedicated to his research, they would never have found their way to wonder at the magnificent ruins stretching far into the mountain. Alistair's eyes clouded with tears, moved by the monument to the Maker's beloved. Leliana slipped her hand into his, lacing their fingers together. It was a bittersweet moment. She had hoped to be more joyful in finding the resting place of the Maker's bride, but with a blood mage in their midst, it was hard for her mind not to venture to dark thoughts.

She heard Alyssa speaking to Brother Genitive. "Why don't you stay here for the time being? There might be more cult members hiding in these halls."

"Good idea," he said, "I would just slow you down, anyhow."

Leliana scowled. There was no way to tell if Alyssa made him think that or if he simply agreed with her. She couldn't look at the woman now and not see blood magic at work with every suggestion, every word. No longer. They shared sisterly moments by the fire, talking about family, stories, favorite things, and lovers. They would stay up to watch over the camp. Leliana would inevitably drift to sleep with her head in Alyssa's lap, filled with confidence that her sister would protect her and the others. It was all gone. Shattered and dispersed.

Zevran seemed to be utterly helpless to her charms the way he followed her around, practically glowing with affection. He was never far from her side these days. It was disturbing. Leliana couldn't understand how he could still be so trusting of her after what happened. It must be the thrall of the blood mage. Anyone else would have put her to the sword the moment she surrendered to blood magic, and Zevran had ample opportunity to do so.

But so did Alistair. He was an ex-Templar and he never even drew his sword...

"Are you ok, love?" Alistair asked. "You look upset." He followed her line of sight and sighed.

Leliana shook her head.

He raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly. "She's not that person, Leliana. I know she's not."

Her lips set into a grim line. Instead of answering, she let go of Alistair's hand and followed the others further into the ruins.

The group made their way through the temple cutting, a bloody swath through a constant stream of cultists hell-bent on killing them. From Leliana's vantage point, near the back with her bow and arrows, she could see each of the battlefields clearly. Alyssa was taking more initiative since her training with Morrigan. More than once, a ferocious blue-black jungle cat tore through the room, clamping her powerful jaws down on a limb of an enemy. She brought the attackers to the floor to be slain by her assassin lover stepping from shadow. They were brutally efficient.

Some time passed when Leliana found herself alone with Alistair, walking a quiet stretch of hallway. "Leliana, I'm worried about you," Alistair murmured in her ear. "You keep watching Alyssa and Zevran as if they're going to turn on you. Are you alright?"

"No," she said, "no, I'm not. I don't like how powerful she's become. She's dangerous."

He sighed, "She's a Grey Warden. We don't recruit those who are not powerful. You could say the same about me too."

"This is different."

"What? You mean I'm just a big baby in comparison?" He grinned at her and nudged her shoulder.

Leliana wasn't in the mood for levity and moved away from him. "I'm serious.” 

Alistair signed, “I noticed. She noticed. Maker's breath, even Oghren noticed, and you know how thick he is. Leliana, I love you, but I think you're overreacting." 

She glared at him. "And I think you can't see past the little sister act she's feeding you."

Alistair rubbed the bridge of his nose, "What do you want me to do? Stick my sword through her chest? The Wardens don't forbid that kind of magic, but I don't condone it either. She's been true to her word and hasn't used it since. Can't you give her the benefit of the doubt?"

"No!" She turned on her heel to leave.

He touched her arm to stop her from charging off. "You two used to be best friends. What happened?"

She pulled her arm away. “Blood magic happened. The falter of her control happened, and when it did, I suddenly had more empathy for the Chantry's position. The Circle exists for a reason. Her parents made a mistake."

Alistair flinched.

Leliana continued, "You could have stopped her! You still remember your templar training, and I've seen you interrupt spells of other mages we've crossed. But you did nothing! And afterward, you did nothing. Holy Maker, you comforted her! How could you even touch her after that?"

Alistair turned his back. Tension cut between them, cold of the stone and ice pushing them further apart. He took a deep breath before he spoke, "I realize you were scared by what happened. It went against all you believe, but she and I are literally the only Wardens standing against the Blight. We have a job to do. You're either a part of it like the Maker said you should be, or you're not." With one last look at his over his shoulder, she could see his eyes grow glassy, "Please don't make me choose between desire and duty." He turned down the hallway leaving Leliana with her thoughts and the sounds of his footsteps echoing off the stone.

* * *

The group eventually found each other after making their way through the labyrinthine temple. Almost seamlessly, the architecture opened up into the mountain, exposing veins of lyrium embedded in the rock walls and tunnels reaching into the darkness. Leliana and Zevran had scouted ahead of the group, searching for ambushes and traps. So far, they had met with little resistance. The cultists that were present went down quickly enough under their hidden blades and cunning arrows. Before turning down one of the narrower side hallways, Leliana asked him, "Do you still trust her?"

"I'm sorry, are you speaking to me?" Zevran placed his fingers lightly on his chest as he looked at her askance.

She wasn't surprised by this reaction. Since Leliana had started avoiding Alyssa, she was also avoiding him by proxy. Leliana made her best effort to keep her voice low, "I just wonder, Zevran, how you can still trust someone who used forbidden magic."

"Sometimes I wonder how she can trust an assassin sent to kill her and a friend who lied to her, but she does," he replied.

Leliana narrowed her eyes, "That is not the same thing."

"Isn't it?" he said. "We have traveled for many months with our dear Wardens. Why should one act of desperation color my opinion of her, especially when more than one of us has begged her to slay their enemies?"

"Blood mages control people. That violation makes them more dangerous than mages who simply kill." Leliana glared at him, her cheeks flushed, "And I didn't lie about my past. I honestly through I had put that life behind me. I wasn't expecting Marjolaine to come after me all the way from Orlais."

Zevran stopped. He turned and fixed Leliana with his golden eyes, "My dear Leliana, I know what it means to be controlled. To have nothing be your own. To have someone tell you what to do, who to kill, or when to piss. I also know what it means to be free of that." She must have looked startled because his expression softened. "Have you ever known her to violate? Trust, personal space, opinions? Has she ever given you a reason to doubt?"

Leliana didn't answer. She didn't want to have this conversation or feel so heavy. Here they practically walking with Andraste, and only sadness and fear filled her. It was supposed to be light. It was supposed to exalting. Instead, it was choking and strained, feeling more like walking through the Deep Roads. "I can't do this alone."

Zevran turned to her and said, "You are not alone, and you're doing this yourself. If you are looking for an ally to take down a Warden Mage, look elsewhere."

Leliana slung her bow over her shoulder, continuing down the darkened corridor with Zevran following close behind.

* * *

About halfway through the tunnels burrowing into the mountain, Morrigan and Alyssa started arguing loudly. "I don't understand why we can't cut our way through," Morrigan said. "It would be a lot faster than using misdirection with these cretins."

"There's no reason to spill blood when it can be avoided," Alyssa shifted back into her human form from Mabari. "What difference does it make how we get through?"

"You're running away again," Morrigan shouted. "I didn't teach you how to fight only for you to act like a mouse instead of a lion."

Leliana watched them argue. The two mages were snarling now, their faces only inches away from each other. Alyssa gesticulated as she spoke, "Just because I choose to use this power a certain way doesn't make it wrong. Why is it always a fight with you?"

"I gave you tools of destruction, yet you still insist on taking the easy way out."

"This is not easy!" Translucent tongues of flame collected around Alyssa's shoulders, growing more opaque as she and Morrigan argued. "I could unleash a wave of destruction and bring down this damn mountain around our ears, but I refuse to give into that. Do you have any idea how hard it is to control that?"

"No, because I don't see blood magic as a liability." Morrigan shot back. Her eyes were luminous yellow in the low light. "Use the power I gave you. Be more. Do more. Work to secure more. You'll need it in the upcoming battle with the archdemon, and if you insist on avoiding bloodshed, you cheapen the progress you made."

Alyssa yelled, "These people have names and faces!" As the fire wrapped around her whole body, the rest of the team looked on, some backing away. Alistair stepped in front of Leliana. As she felt him prime his magic disruption, Zevran also appeared at her side, which was confusing. The last time Alyssa made such a display, the assassin looked excited, but now he looked anxious.

The Warden continued shouting at Morrigan. "Do you even know why we're here? I could have cured Arl Eamon myself. It would have taken a while, but I'm skilled enough to it."

"I don't care—"

Alyssa cut her off. “Isolde wouldn't let me near him. She was still traumatized from what Connor went through that instead of saving her husband with a sure thing, she sent us hither and thither for something that might not even exist or work! I'm not cutting a bloody swath because you think it's easier. To these people, we are the enemy, invading their home and killing their loved ones."

Leliana felt panic rising in her chest as Alistair stepped closer, armor glowing blue with his dispelling ability charged to full.

Morrigan didn't let up, "All I see is a coward playing at being a Grey Warden when you could have the whole world bow to your command."

Alyssa's fire exploded, filling the cavern. The flames ghosted over them all, but none were burned. There was no heat behind them. Feeling the adrenalin coursing through her veins, Leliana watched the mages, still facing each other, though Morrigan had taken a sizable step away from the Warden. "Might does not always make right." She turned away from the witch, "I choose my own path forged by balance, not brutality. I'll not let you goad me into killing because you're bored."

Alyssa walked down the corridor. She didn't see Morrigan smile catlike in the gloom, but Leliana did.

* * *

A man clad in red armor, calling himself Kolgrim, and leading a large group of cultists had made a bargain with the Wardens. Take a vial of drake's blood and defile the Sacred Ashes of Andraste so that they could continue worshipping the dragon that nested in the cliffs above. If completed, they would be rewarded, and if not, then death. At first, Alyssa refused to entertain the idea. That's when Morrigan stepped in.

Morrigan shoved the vial into Alyssa's hand. "Do what needs to be done."

Leliana watched as Alyssa rolled the vial in her hand, letting the blood inside catch the light. It glowed crimson, changing to an eerie dark shade as it turned. She slipped it into her pocket and moved through the crack in the far wall into a pool of sunlight. The path opened up on the other side of the mountain, stretching into a valley that separated the temple grounds from Andraste's final resting place. Broken arches and crags in the stone path told of beauty long since forgotten by pilgrims seeking the prophet's renowned healing power. Leliana wondered how many of the faithful had ever gotten this far.

A roar sounded overhead, shattering the peace and ricocheting off the mountainside. Overhead soared a high dragon, easily as big as Denerim's market district covered in long dangerous-looking spikes and purple scales. It swooped across the valley to a perch not far from the entrance to Andraste's Tomb and wrapped its massive tail around its body before settling in for a nap. Alyssa stood awestruck by the moment. She had watched it glide over everyone, mesmerized by the creature, showing no sign of diving for cover like her companions had.

After it had settled, Alyssa turned around wide-eyed, "Did you see that? That was—“. The others emerged from behind rocks and pillars. With a deadpan expression, she said, "My heroes."

"It could have easily attacked us, mi corazón," Zevran wiped stone dust and dirt from his leather armor. "What use would we have been then?"

"I would have protected you," she kissed his cheek.

His smile was more of a grimace, "I do not doubt your conviction, cara, but in any case, could we sneak around just this once?"

"If you insist." She tickled his chin, "It's hard to deny you anything."

"You mean we're not gonna hunt it?" Oghren said.

"We have a job to do," Leliana interrupted and started walking briskly ahead of the pack. "Stop fooling around and let's go." They were on a mission for the Maker and Ferelden. There was no time for fun, and they were at last on the threshold of Andraste's Tomb. She had to move forward.

Oghren watched her storm off while giving the cliffside a wide berth." She was a lot more fun before the mess with Branka," he snorted.

Alyssa sighed, "We all were."

* * *

Andraste's Guardian stood sentinel at the door leading into the prophet's tomb. He told of a gauntlet that would test their worthiness through intricate traps, puzzles, and a host of undefined challenges. Alyssa narrowed her eyes when he spoke. The Guardian's voice sounded like the wind taking shape, "An apostate turned Grey Warden, and yet you could not even protect those whom you held dearest in this world. Your mother and father both were murdered trying to protect you. Do you think you are responsible for their deaths?"

"I think the bloodthirsty scum who killed them are responsible," she said. "Why is it always the victims that are forced to take responsibility for those who commit the crimes?"

He asked similar questions of Alistair and Wynne before moving on to the rest of the group. "And the Antivan elf."

"Is it my turn now? Hurrah... I'm so excited," Zevran said.

"Is there no one you regret more than a woman by the name of—"

"How do you know about that?" His voice was hard as iron. Little beads of sweat broke out across his brow as he snarled at the Guardian.

"It is allowed to me," the Guardian responded.

Alyssa stepped between them, "I don't care what you're allowed.” She turned to him, “Zev you don't have to answer that." Leliana watched Zevran chew on his lip and utter a curse in Antivan. He wouldn't look at Alyssa. She said again, "Zevran.” Their eyes met. "You don't have to do this."

He kissed her forehead, but when he spoke, it was to Alyssa. "Yes, I regret it. I would ask forgiveness if I could," He scowled at the Guardian, "but you already know that would be impossible. Now move on."

Move on, he did. He turned his spectral gaze to Leliana, and a chill ran through her making her insides quiver. What sins of hers would be revealed, she wondered. The Guardian asked, "Why do you say the Maker speaks to you when all know that the Maker has left? He spoke only to Andraste. Do you believe yourself her equal?"

Leliana sputtered, "I never said that!" Her cheeks flushed red when the others turned to look at her.

"In Orlais, you were someone," the Guardian continued, "In Lothering, you feared you would lose yourself, become a drab sister and disappear. When your brothers and sister of the cloister criticized you for what you professed, you were hurt, but you also reveled in it. It made you special. You enjoyed the attention, even if it was negative."

"You're saying I made it up, for… for attention?" Her knuckles paled from the force of her clenched fists, "I did not. I know what I believe!" Leliana knew what he was getting at. He called her a liar and implied that she enjoyed being outcast by her Chantry brothers and sisters. As angry as she was, somewhere in her heart, Leliana wondered if the Guardian was a little bit right.

Leliana shook her head, pushing away those selfish thoughts. She didn't want to admit that she was scared of vanishing and of being utterly consumed, fading into nothingness. And Marjolaine. Fear of being consumed by her mistress' hatred and lust for blood is why she sought refuge in the Chantry in the first place. Not vanity. Survival. It had to be.

Eventually, they were granted access to the tomb. As the team walked, Leliana thought more about the Grey Warden leading them through the challenges posed by the gauntlet. She wondered what the Warden would so with the vial that Morrigan shoved in her hand. Leliana prayed silently, 'Maker, give me strength. Maker, protect me.'

* * *

The last leg of the gauntlet had the team facing down a wall of fire blocking the path to the final resting place of Andraste. Near the entrance of the room rested an altar with archaic writing carved into it. Alyssa read the runes and sighed, rubbing her forehead and muttering.

"What's wrong?" Alistair asked.

She grunted. "To get through the flames, we have to be naked."

"That is not so bad," Zevran grinned.

Her scars. None of the men had seen them, at least not that Leliana knew of. If Alyssa ever did show Zevran, it was never mentioned. She caught herself before offering a word of comfort, forgetting that their sisterly bond was probably broken forever. It hurt more than expected. A feeling of loss ripped through Leliana like a blade, making her breath short and chest ache. 

"Let's get to it then," Alistair said, breaking Leliana's train of thought. When she looked over, she was shocked to see him naked except for his small clothes. The shy lover, who refused to make a sound when they made love for fear of being heard, was now the first to shed his clothes. Zevran and Oghren were right behind him with the rest of the team following.

Alyssa was shaking. She couldn't unclasp the buckles of her robe because of it. Zevran stepped over to her and undid them one by one. "No fear, cara. Embrace it, and it cannot hurt you, remember?" She nodded and, with Zevran's help, shed her clothes.

Oghren spoke low. "By the stone..." 

Alistair said nothing at all, but Leliana knew that look. If he found the man before Zevran, he would kill him.

Zevran kissed Alyssa’s cheek. "You are so beautiful, my dear Warden," he said.

Alyssa was the first to step through the fire, and moments later she called out from the other side for the others to follow. As they crossed the flames, Andraste's Guardian appeared to congratulate them. "You have been found worthy."

The flames vanished and clothes were put back on. An elevated altar, adorned with flowers and a stone replica of the prophet, was the vase that held the remains of Andraste, the Bride of the Maker. It was absolutely breathtaking. Wynne, Alistair, and Leliana sent prayers of thanks to the Maker with bowed heads and hushed voices. The others less so.

As Alyssa climbed the steps to the Urn of Sacred Ashes, Leliana made her way behind the others, bow in hand.

Alyssa knelt before the Ashes.

An arrow was taken from its quiver.

She held the vial, watching it catch the single beam of light pouring in from a hole in the wall.

The bowstring tightened as the arrow was pulled back.

The vial tumbled from Alyssa's fingers and smashed to the floor.

Leliana wept with relief.


	22. Ashes to Ashes

**Leliana**

The Wardens weren't even across the threshold of Redcliffe Castle when Isolde and Teagan rushed toward them. "You're back!" Bann Teagan said. "What happened? Were you able to find the Ashes?"

Alyssa held up a small glass phial with what looked like grey dust inside.

"Is that?"

Before she could even open her mouth to reply, Bann Teagan knelt and blessed himself, "Andraste's grace." 

Isolde was less reverent. She snatched the phial from Alyssa's hand and rushed upstairs to where her husband was still in a coma. Alyssa shook her head, "She knows that this didn't come with instructions, right? There wasn't anything in Genitivi's research."

Teagan's face went pale, "We need to stop her!"

"Better move your ass," Alyssa crossed her arms.

Leliana scowled. The least the Warden could do was behave with some dignity. She pushed through, " We're not done yet. If you're not going to help get the hell out of the way." Teagan and Alistair were hot on her heels to the Arl's room.

Isolde stood over her husband. The only way anyone knew he was alive was the gentle rise and fall of his chest. Other than that, he had been non-responsive to every kind of stimulation they could think of: noise, pain, shaking. Nothing would revive him even though the local physician said that there was no trace of the poison that was killing him before. The demon made good on that promise, at least. Isolde uncorked the phial and was about to up-end it over the Arl when Bann Teagan, Alistair, and Leliana crashed into the room.

"STOP!" Teagan shouted. He sprinted across the room and grabbed it from her hand, corking it to keep the ashes secure.

"Give that to me! Are you mad!" Isolde rushed him and fought to gain control of the phial. They battled in a tug of war over the ashes, shouting at each other, all while Alistair and Leliana stared and feared the worst.

At this point, Alyssa had made her way upstairs, "You've got to be joking." Isolde and Teagan escalated to scrabbling and pushing each other. Limbs were flailed, hair was pulled, Isolde slapped Teagan a few times to get him to let go. "Careful Teagan, there's no cure for rabies," Alyssa scoffed.

"Stop it! Both of you stop!" Leliana shouted, "One of you is bound to—"

Isolde pulled too hard, and the phial flew out of her hand and smashed against the stone fireplace. All of them stared, faces pale, at the shattered glass and ashes scattering into nothingness, falling into cracks in the floor. Isolde wailed, falling to her knees and crying uncontrollably. The rest of them were stunned speechless.

Except for Alyssa. "I had a feeling this would happen." She held up a leather pouch with another phial sticking out of the drawstring opening.

"Then what was smashed?" Leliana asked. Her voice was still shaking from the shock of seeing the only cure destroyed.

"Part of last night's campfire."

Isolde jumped to her feet and threw herself at the mage, practically foaming at the mouth, "You bitch! You apostate whore! How dare you! I'll have you branded for this!"

If Teagan hadn't caught her mid lunge, they really would have lost all chance of helping the Arl. "Calm down, woman! Get hold of yourself!" From the way he was straining, the Arlessa was stronger than she looked.

Alyssa handed the pouch to Leliana, "You're the only one capable of using this properly. Please help him."

Leliana took the pouch. There was distinct energy thrumming from its contents that filled her with a peace she never knew possible. She looked back at Alyssa, "I don't understand. How did you know she would be so reckless?"

Alyssa said, "Isolde is the kind of person who doesn't care about humiliating someone, and she doesn't listen because she thinks she knows better." She gestured to the pouch, "Some of us learn from our mistakes. We ask for forgiveness. Try to make up for our sins. And understand when redemption is out of reach for one reason or another." At this, the Warden Mage lowered her eyes and headed for the door.

Not to be outdone, Isolde broke free of Teagan's grip and shouting after Alyssa, "You'll hang for this insult, apostate!"

Leliana stepped forward with the pouch in her hands, unsure of what to do next. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. Remembering her time in the Chantry helped greatly. Stone walls stretching to a vaulted ceiling, rose windows casting colored light into the sacred space, and the chimes of bells ringing in the services. It was not unlike the Temple of Sacred Ashes with its quiet hallways and the ever-present smell of incense. Leliana called to mind the Chant of Light, thinking rather than speaking the words aloud, and with each stanza receded deeper into a meditative state. 

Images in her mind's eye faded to black as sound fell away. The darkness began to lighten, revealing a landscape that looked like the Arl's bedroom, but parts of the walls were missing, and no one else was in the room. She wondered if this is what Alyssa experienced in the fade at the Circle tower when she saved the mages.

The mages accused of blood magic. Most of them falsely accused, and yet that didn't stop the Templars from considering the Rite of Annulment. All of them would have been slaughtered no matter their guilt or innocence. Even First Enchanter Irving, who resisted the demon temptations for hours, possibly days, would have been killed. 

Broodmother…

The word whispered on an absent wind, making her shudder. 

They kill the men and keep the women…

Leliana felt her stomach lurch at the thought. If they lost that battle, the darkspawn would have taken the women alive— "NO!" The sound of her scream was thready and muffled. With all the empty space she had expected it to carry, echo even, but the sound fell dead in the lifeless air. Even if the Arl was nearby, there's no way he could have heard her. Leliana headed further into the etherial keep to find Eamon.

There was no way to tell time or distance here, but after searching most of the rooms, she finally found Eamon in the courtyard, calling for Connor. Leliana bounded down the steps to hail him, but Eamon recoiled and shouted at her, "Away, demon! Where is my son? What have you done with Connor?"

"Arl Eamon," Leliana said, "I'm here to help. You've been in a deep sleep ever since one of Loghain's men poisoned you."

"Stay back!" He held up his hands in defense. 

"My lord, please, I'm no demon. The Arlessa sent us on a quest to bring you the Ashes of Andraste to heal you."

"Liar! You mean to trick me," Arl Eamon tried to pick up a nearby stone, but his hands went right through it. 

Leliana approached even as he recoiled, "Please Arl Eamon, you must trust me. I can help you."

The Arl scoffed, "And I suppose I should take your word alone. I've lost my son in this blighted place. I don't even know where I am or who you are. You say you have a magic powder that will cure me. Do you even hear yourself?"

She sighed, "Holy Maker, did I sound like that?" The irony was not lost on her. "My lord," she tried again, "If you can't trust me on this, you will never get home." She held the pouch in front of her. It started to glow softly with white light, pushing the murky darkness from both of them. Soon there was nothing but the gentle light, the Arl, and Leliana. 

"I suppose I have no choice…," Eamon stepped forward. "Real or demon, this will end." As he reached out and grasped the pouch, the light grew even more until it surrounded them both and blotted out the landscape.

When Leliana opened her eyes, she found herself back in Arl Eamon's room, the real room this time, with Alistair's arms around her. At some point, her legs had given out, and he obviously caught her. "Leliana! Are you alright?"

Before she could answer him, a familiar voice came from the bed, "Wh-where am I?"

Teagan gasped, "Eamon! I can hardly believe it."

"Teagan?" Arl Eamon tried to sit up, "What has happened?" Isolde had rushed to his side to hold him, tears streaming down her face. 

Teagan started to explain what had transpired. "Be calm, brother. You have been deathly ill for a very long time."

Teagan and Isolde filled the Arl in on what had transpired when he was in the coma. They told him about Connor, the town, the Wardens who retrieved the ashes, and about the poisoning that nearly killed him. 

Alistair guided Leliana to her feet, making sure to steady her, "How did you know what to do?"

She shook her head, "I'm not sure. I prayed to the Maker, and then there was this golden light all around me. I was here, but it was different. Twisted and wrong. I had to try so hard to convince the Arl I was real and there to help." Leliana looked up at Alistair. "Then, I felt Andraste's Grace. It's what brought us back."

Alistair pulled her into an embrace, "You did it, love. You did it." He kissed the top of her head.

Leliana realized, had Alyssa not switched the ashes, the Arl would have been lost. Lady Isolde would have blamed Alyssa, probably had her made tranquil if not killed on the spot. Her stomach felt like it was filled with stones at the thought. Her hands were still shaking from the experience, "I need to lie down for a while, Alistair. I'm not feeling myself right now."

"Of course," Alistair escorted her from Arl Eamon's room. "Arl Eamon will need some time with Isolde and Teagan. We'll stay the night here, at least. We could all use some rest after that."


	23. I Can Wait to be King

**Alyssa**

There were at least three idiots in the Arl's study on the following morning, and they were all yelling. They should call a Lands Meet. They should march on the darkspawn horde now. No, later. They need to take care of Loghain now. No, after the archdemon they can figure out who should rule. Round and round they went as 'pop goes the weasel' repeated in Alyssa's head. Eamon wanted to put Alistair on the throne, which Bann Teagan agreed with, but Alistair flat out refused.

"Arl Eamon, you're already popular with the people," Alistair said, "and you have leadership experience! Also, I don't want to be king."

Eamon gesticulated, "You don't understand. If I came forward, it would look like a power grab and not what's best for Ferelden."

"What about you, Teagan?" Alistair said.

Teagan shrugged, "I have no bloodline to make a claim on the throne."

"Well, I don't want it!" Alistair yelled and turned away, clenching and unclenching his fists. "Have you met me? I don't want to be the person on the throne, makings decisions that affect the lives of others. That just isn't me!"

Eamon yelled back, "You don't have a choice in this!"

Teagan tried to mediate, "Wait, Eamon. We shouldn't force him."

"Then what do we do? Let Loghain win; is that what you want?"

Alistair glared at the Arl. "It never ends, does it.”

Eventually, it devolved into an all-out screaming match between Arl Eamon and Alistair, with Teagan playing an ineffective moderator. In the cacophony, Alyssa's mind strayed back to last night when the group stayed at the castle. She didn't bother to stand on pretense by barring Zevran from her room, which was also why she was so tired for this early morning 'meeting.'

"Silk sheets, soft pillows, firm bedding," Zevran purred. "Finally, I get to worship my goddess in surroundings worthy of her." He opened his arms inviting her to join him under the covers. 

"I dunno, dirt has its charms," Alyssa smirked.

He winced, "I know you don't really believe that." She shrugged and said nothing. "Tell me you don't believe that..."

Alyssa flipped him over so she was on top, "My first time was in a pile of hay in a barn."

Zevran smiled, "Are you quite serious?"

"Yup. I surprised the stable boy when I was... let's say reallocating some blankets and possibly a bucket of milk."

"How was it a surprise?"

"I fell on him when I scrambled up the ladder to hide in the loft."

They laughed, loudly and unencumbered, knowing that they were safe together behind guarded stone walls and in an ornate room with a fire crackling away. Two wine glasses were forgotten on a table near the fireplace, kept company by a mostly empty bottle. Alyssa traced her fingers down the tattoos on his chest. "You are so damn beautiful. Sometimes it catches me off guard."

Zevran said, "Do you know why making love to you is so marvelous?"

"My boobs?"

He chuckled, "That too." He turned her body until she was cradled in his arms. "The laughter."

Alyssa looked at him, askance, "Are you sure? I heard that laughter in the bedroom isn't always a good thing."

"It is with you," Zevran kissed her deeply, grazing her bottom lip with his teeth in a gentle bite. "The joy in you shines when your armor is removed. I could write poetry with my lips and testimony to your beauty with my fingertips. Now there is enough time to do this properly." He traced his hand from her shoulder, down her side, and stopped at her waist. They eased under the covers until Zevran was on top of her, kissing her, gently nibbling where her shoulder and neck met.

Alyssa didn't want to deflect with another joke, but it was too scary to say, 'I love you.' She arched her back and wrapped her arms around him, feeling the heat of his—

Arl Eamon slammed his hand on the big oak desk in the study, startling Alyssa out of her reverie. "If you would listen to reason, you would see that I'm right!"

A flash of metal caught her eye when the items on the desk shook from the strike. While the men continued to argue, Alyssa picked up a silver amulet in the shape of an Andrastian symbol. The front of it was cracked but forged back together quite expertly. Had it not been for the rough edge on the back, she would have never noticed. 

"Alyssa, please talk to him," Teagan said. He was the only one left in the room after Arl Eamon and Alistair stormed off.

She sighed, "I'm not going to manipulate him for you. He likes being a Grey Warden. He's good at it. Why not just let him be happy?"

"Because the very fate of Ferelden is at stake here! You don't understand how important this is."

"I understand. I just don't care." Alyssa reached the door but was stopped by Teagan with one last plea.

"I realize you have more pressing matters with the Blight, but think about this. Do you believe that Loghain would honestly halt his armies so you and Alistair can continue your quest?"

This gave her pause. Teagan could be right about that since they already had Loghain putting a price on their heads and sending assassins to kill them. Even though that last part worked out, Alyssa agreed that it wasn't wise to ignore this. "Ok. I'll talk to him, but I promise nothing. If he tells me 'no,' that's it."

Teagan nodded, "It's all we can ask." He paced a bit and then spoke again. "One more thing."

"Yes," she said.

"The mage. What should be done about him? He did save Connor, but he also poisoned Eamon. A decision should be made."

Alyssa shrugged, "So make one. You're a big boy. I'm sure you can manage it."

"As the injured parties, Eamon's and my decision are impacted by what the mage did. You are impartial to this," Teagan said.

"Fine. Let Jowen go."

Again Teagan stopped her from leaving the study, "That cannot be done. Who knows what other ills will befall those in his path. His fate must be decided in one way or another."

Alyssa pushed his arm from barring her path. "You asked for my choice. I gave it. If you disagree then leave me out of it.” She called over her shoulder one last time, "We're not all called 'the mage.' He has a name. Use it."

* * *

Alyssa made her way to the guest bedrooms on the top floor in search of Alistair. "These fucking stairs…" she panted a bit when she got to the top step. Alistair's room was at the end of the hall, and if the maid was right, he retreated to it to get away from the Arl and the Bann. She knocked. "Alistair? Do you have a minute? We need to talk."

Instead of Alistair, Leliana opened the door and ran past Alyssa. She looked like she was crying or at least very upset. Alyssa cringed, "I am so sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt."

Alistair shook his head, "It's fine. It's…it's not fine, but that's not your fault." He walked to one of the nightstands and poured himself some water from the bedside pitcher. "All this talk about the Lands Meet and Loghain has everyone upset. I don't suppose you have better news."

"Yes and no," Alyssa said. "They want me to convince you to be king. I told them I wouldn't push you to do something you don't want to do." She sat in one of the wooden chairs near the fireplace.

"I don't want to be king!" Alistair threw the cup at the wall, sending clay shrapnel and water scattering around the room.

"…but how do you really feel?" Alyssa said, not missing a beat.

"Not in the mood," he gritted his teeth.

Alyssa nodded, "You have a habit of throwing things. Are you sure you're not part Rivaini?"

He shouted, "Did you come up here just to antagonize me?" When he turned around, he saw a silver chain draped across her fingers with the amulet dangling at the end. It caught the firelight, shimmering as it swayed gently.

"Look familiar?" She asked.

"Is that…." He stepped toward the amulet, taking longer strides when he realized, "This is my mother's amulet. It has to be." Alistair carefully lifted his palm underneath to feel the weight of it. Alyssa let the necklace drop gently into his outstretched hand. "But why isn't it broken?" He turned it over and ran his thumb over the seam at the back where it was repaired. "Where did you find it?"

"It was on the Arl's desk. When you all were playing 'biggest balls in the room,' the light bounced off it, and it caught my eye."

"Oh…" he looked down at the amulet and muttered, "Then he must have found the amulet after I... threw it at the wall. And had it repaired. He kept it….I don't understand why he would do that."

"Alistair," Alyssa stood up, "he cares about you. A lot of people do. I don't know why you can't see that."

He smirked, "I guess you could be right. We never really talked that much and then the way I left…" Alistair wiped the corners of his eyes, "Thank you. I mean it." Alyssa smiled and hugged him while he gazed at the amulet. "I thought I'd lost this to my own stupidity. I wish I had this a long time ago."

"Surprise," she said.

Alistair took half a step back and looked down at Alyssa with a radiant smile, "Did you remember me mentioning it?" She nodded. "Wow. I'm more used to people not really listening when I go on about things…"

Alyssa blinked, "Sorry, what? I zoned out for a bit."

"Oh, very funny, ha-ha." His smile faltered.

"What's wrong?"

Alistair left her embrace to rummage around in a nearby closet. When he finally pulled his head out, he thrust a small glowing scroll-shaped object in her hand. "I need you to do something, no questions asked."

She looked down at the object, "Wait, what—"

"Please?" He put his hands on her shoulders, "It's important."

Alyssa nodded, "Yeah, ok. What do you need?"

"Find Leliana, right now, wherever she is on the castle grounds and talk to her."

"What the hell am I supposed to say? She can't even look at me without thinking I'm possessing her or some crap."

"Trust me. Take that," Alistair pointed at the object, "and find her. If I'm right, you'll both be thanking me tonight."

Her eyes went wide, "Excuse me?"

"That's not what I meant," he turned her around and gave her a playful push out the door. "Go. Now."

"..but.."

"Trust me!" He closed the door behind her.

Alyssa groaned loudly and trudged down the hall back to the stairs. "Trust me, he says. Sticks a weird glowy thing in my hand and I just roll with it. I need new friends."


	24. Chasing Leliana

**Alyssa**

Alyssa had checked the other floors before making her way down to the courtyard door. There was no sign of Leliana, and most of the service staff hadn't seen her. The ones that did were able to point Alyssa in the right general direction. She spotted Wynne in one of the hallways. "Have you seen Leliana? Alistair said I needed to find her."

"Yes, she left to the courtyard a few minutes ago, looking upset about something." Wynne noticed the glow in Alyssa's hand and backed up. "Warden, do you know what you are holding?"

"Not really. Alistair handed it to me before ushering me out the door. Is it dangerous?"

"It can be, especially to mages. It's a magic disrupter. Templars have objects and amulets made out of it to protect them from magical attacks." Wynne's lips set in a grim line, "If you're attacked within its radius, you won't be able to heal yourself or use any of your magic."

Alyssa's shoulders sagged, "I'm not surprised. The Arlessa probably has these hidden all over the castle because of Connor."

"Where did Alistair find that?"

"Closet."

There was an awkward pause between them as they stared at the rod. Alyssa was the first to speak. "Courtyard?"

Wynne nodded. "Be careful. If she's still as anxious as I suspect she may be armed."

"I don't doubt it."

* * *

The Warden Mage descended the steps into the Redcliffe castle courtyard. Undead bodies were still strewn about, apparently not yet removed by the guards after the battle. When she got to the last step, Alyssa scanned from one side of the courtyard to the other. Arrows lay broken and lifeless in the dusty grass. Swords shattered to pieces littered the pathways. It seemed fitting that the sky was overcast and threatening to storm, adding to the somber reminder of the very recent devastation. If Leliana was here, then she was cloaked in shadows, watching from them safely. 

"I get it, you know," Alyssa said out loud. "Magic can be terrifying. I can see that just looking around here. Conner had good intentions, but it let something bad in, and now almost a hundred people are dead." She fiddled with the disrupter. "Wynne said that these 'disrupters,' or whatever, are all over the estate now. It's dampening the magical abilities of all mages within the walls. Explains why I haven't been able to cast effectively. I thought talking to you with one in hand would help." There was still no response. A cold wind blew through the trees, making the naked branches sway and causing a thin whistling sound among the rattling of dying wood. "Leliana," she said, "I'm not sorry for saving us, but I am sorry for how I did it. Mostly, I'm sorry for what I lost with you." No answer. Alyssa rubbed her brow and turned to leave, "Screw it. I tried," she muttered.

Before she reached the first step, Leliana's voice traveled across the courtyard. "Kolgrim promised you power if you destroyed the ashes. Why didn't you?" Whistling from a new gust sounded. Leliana was still hidden.

"Because that would be insane. Because I don't need more power," Alyssa paused and inhaled deeply, letting the breath out in a shudder. "Because I knew you would be devastated and having a chance to redeem what I did was greater than any promise of power." Tears stung her eyes as they had been so often lately. She waited again for Leliana to respond. 

The bard stepped out of hiding, eyes red and face wet with tears. Alyssa started to raise her hand with the disrupter, but before she could get her arm halfway, Leliana crashed into her. She hugged the Warden around the neck and cried into her shoulder. "My heart broke any time I remembered what we had. I couldn't get past the fear. It choked me."

"I promise you, on Andraste's grace and all the Maker called holy, I will never reach for that magic again."

Alyssa lost count of how many minutes they spent holding each other. It was only when she heard a man clearing his throat that she stepped out of Leliana's arms.

Alistair was at the bottom of the steps smiling at them. 

"If you say 'I told you so,' she's going to have to extract this from various parts of your body," Alyssa held up the dampener and wiggled it at him.

"My lady, I would never," he said.

"By the way, can you tell me next time that I'm holding something this dangerous?"

His smile faded. "I didn't know if you would have agreed, and I wasn't sure Leliana would have listened if you didn't have it with you."

At that, Leliana took the dampener from Alyssa and tossed it gently to Alistair. He caught it easily. "She would have," Leliana said. "I know now that she would have even though…" she paused for a moment. "…even without the dampener, you would have told me the truth, wouldn't you?"

"Always."

Alistair sighed, "This feels bittersweet."

Alyssa looked around the courtyard. For some reason, she expected the weather to change with the reconciliation, but it hadn't. A chill wind picked up again, shredding the grass with its icy temper and blowing the cloth on the corpses, making them almost alive again. Everywhere was brown and grey, colorless and cold. "It's because we're not done yet. Tomorrow is a hard march to Denerim." She swallowed hard. "The Landsmeet means all the nobles will be in attendance." She could feel herself start to shake, knowing that he would be there. 

Leliana must have picked up on that. "You're a different person now. And you are not alone. Not this time." She cupped Alyssa's cheek. "We will be ready if needed."

She nodded. "Thanks." She took one last look around the courtyard before rubbing her arms, "Let's get inside. It's depressing out here."

Alistair and Leliana followed her inside, shutting the heavy wooden doors tight behind them.

* * *

**Zevran**

On the ramparts overlooking the courtyard, Zevran was waiting with a loaded crossbow. It was pointed in Leliana's general direction. He was sure that Alyssa couldn't see Leliana from her hiding place, but he could, clear as day. There was something glowing Alyssa's hand. It was distracting but not so much that he lost track of the hidden bard. He would give Leliana one chance, but if there was any flash of blade or arrow, he would fire right into her chest. 

Alyssa stopped talking. For a moment, it seemed like no one was willing to make the next move until Leliana finally stepped out of shadow. Zevran adjusted his grip on the crossbow and took aim. 

They spoke more. Leliana wiped at her face, probably tears. Alistair appeared on the steps going into the courtyard from the main hall. He wasn't in his armor or carrying a weapon. When the women hugged, Zevran felt the tension leave him. He lowered and unloaded the bow. Until he was sure that they had truly made amends, a poisoned blade would always be within his reach. 


	25. Another Brick in the Wall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mention of sexual assault and suicidal ideation

**Alyssa**

The gates of Denerim cast a long shadow over the Grey Wardens and their companions as they walked up the path to the city. This time they felt much more menacing. Behind those fortifications, every leader in Fereldan gathered for the Landsmeet to decide who should be the ruler of the land - Queen Anora or the lost prince, Alistair. 

In the main hall of Arl Eamon's estate, he briefed the team on what they could expect, leading up to the Landsmeet. "Admittedly, what happens when we are all called to the court is still unknown. I have some pull with the local lords and ladies, but it would help if you two could meet with some of them to convince them to come to our side. Loghain's reach is long, and Queen Anora has the favor of her subjects, especially here in Denerim."

"I saw three wanted posters on the way here alone," Alistair said. "How are we supposed to convince anyone of anything?"

Alyssa shrugged, "How many of them are you willing to get naked for?"

"What?!" Alistair yelped.

"Actually, that's not a terrible idea," Zevran said. "Bedding royalty happens to be a popular pastime in Antiva."

Alistair crossed his arms. "There can not be a point to this."

"There was this one fellow who did quite well working as a prostitute based on his uncanny resemblance to the king. Charged a fortune."

"Couldn't afford him, I take it," Alistair grinned and nudged Zevran with his elbow.

Zevran narrowed his eyes, "That cynicism will serve you well, my friend. Hold on to it."

Wynne said, "If you're all done being ridiculous, we need an actual plan."

"Sorry, Wynne," Alyssa said, "Kidding aside we—"

Footsteps approaching heralded the arrival of Loghain donned in full plate mail and flanked by Ser Cauthrian and Arl Howe. A hush fell on the team, watching the Commander of Denerim's army address Arl Eamon. 

"Loghain." Arl Eamon greeted him. "This is…and honor that the regent would find time to greet me personally."

Alyssa had forgotten how heavy Loghain's voice was. Rough and deep, with an underlying tone of disdain. "How could I not welcome a man so important as to call every lord in Fereldan away from his estates while a Blight claws at our land?"

Alyssa muttered to Alistair, "Oh, 'now' it's a Blight. Didn't we tell him that months ago?"

Alistair's jaw was clenched so tight, she was sure his teeth would crack.

Arl Eamon continued, "The Blight is why I'm here. With Cailan dead, Fereldan must have a king to lead it against the darkspawn."

"Fereldan has a strong leader," Loghain replied, "Its Queen. And I lead her armies."

"And what a good job you did at Ostagar," Alyssa said. "Alistair only had one concussion from your sterling leadership."

Loghain's cold glare snapped to Alyssa. Her head barely came up to his chest. "And who is this, Eamon? Some new stray you picked up on the road? And here I thought it was only royal bastards you play the nursemaid to, not little girls with sticks."

"Admitting the royal part is a good first step," she said." Maybe you can work up to confessing what you did to the Grey Wardens and King Cailan."

If Loghain felt anything, it didn't show on his face. "You have my sympathies on what happened to your order. It is unfortunate that they chose to turn against Fereldan."

"Now that's bollocks for you."

Ser Cauthrian stepped forward, "Don't interrupt, curl. You betters are talking."

Alyssa's hackles went up faster than the flames on her robe, "No one fucking asked you!" She was pushed back by Arl Eamon's outflung arm.

"Enough, Cauthrian," Loghain said, ignoring Alyssa, "This is not the time or place." He turned back to Eamon, who was struggling to hold back the Warden Mage. "I had hoped to talk you down from this rash course, Eamon. Our people are frightened. Our king is dead. Our land is under siege. We must be united now if we are to endure this crisis. Your own sister Queen Rowan, fought tirelessly to see Fereldan restored. Would you see her work destroyed?" Eamon flinched as Loghain continued his tirade, "You divide our nation and weaken our efforts against the Blight with your selfish ambition to the throne."

Eamon seemed a bit struck by what Loghain had said. Taking shots at his family was a low blow, even for him. Alyssa spoke up in his stead, "Is your plan' talk as long as possible so they'll get tired and go home? Because it sucks."

Ser Cauthrian stepped toward Alyssa once more, but before the two women could come to blows, Eamon found his voice again. He drew himself up to full height, the ruler of Redcliffe finally healed from Loghain's treachery and met him eye to eye. "I cannot forgive what you've done, to me, my family, and my people. Maybe the maker can, but not I. Our people deserve a king of the Theirin bloodline. Alistair will be the one to lead us to victory in this Blight."

Alyssa wondered if Alistair felt the same. At the moment, he stood shoulder to shoulder with the Arl as a united front. Maybe he changed his mind. Maybe he wanted to worry Loghain. Either way, it was commanding. 

Loghain's parting shot was a declaration of defending his homeland at any cost. He and Ser Cauthrian saw themselves out, but Howe lingered, his gaze sizing up the Warden Mage. "I remember you."

"Bully for you," Alyssa said.

Howe smiled, "You're Lord Bennett's wife."

The pit of her stomach dropped like a stone, and the blood left her face. "Like hell I am." It came out as a strained whisper, not the defiant scream she planned it to be.

"Oh, I remember you," he continued. He watched Alyssa with half-closed eyes and white teeth gleaming in the ambient light. "Stunning in that billowing white gown, even after you jumped. He was so looking forward to the wedding night."

Her body shook, imperceivable at first but building in force, "I never made it to the alter. I never consented."

"It didn't matter, my dear. Lord Bennett had all of the paperwork in order. In Gwaren, the consent of the bride isn't needed if she is incapacitated."

"No… no that…no…" Alyssa's voice sounded like air escaping even though her mind was screaming itself sick. Just before she felt her knees buckle under her, a thought occurred. "It doesn't matter…. I was conscripted. Your laws don't apply to the Grey Wardens, because we're outside your jurisdiction."

Instead of faltering, Howe smiled more broadly, "Well, we shall see what his lordship makes of that. His reach is far and powerful."

Before losing what little control she had, Alyssa felt Zevran's arm around her waist and the warms of his body beside her. Just as in the Tower of Magi, his presence gave her strength. He kissed her cheek before turning to Howe. "You know who I am, yes?"

A puzzled look crossed Howe's face. "Should I?"

Zevran grinned, "I was one of the Crows you hired to kill the Grey Wardens."

"Ah, yes. I thought you looked…..familiar," Howe said.

"Well, I just wanted to report that I failed my mission," Zevran lifted Alyssa's hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles. "Rather spectacularly, might I add."

Whatever Howe thought it was hidden behind an excellent poker face. However the way his back stiffened at this news told a tale of irritation at the least, "You don't say…."

"I'm terribly broken up over it," Zevran said, pulling Alyssa closer. The two of them stared down the Arl as he scowled and left the estate. When the door banged loudly behind him, Zevran turned to Alyssa, easing his grip on her, somewhat reluctantly. "You have but to say the word, my dear Warden."

Alyssa shook her head, "Let him go. I have a feeling we'll deal with him later." Her legs couldn't hold her any longer, and she sank into Zevran's arms. "I need to sit or something."

"This way," Alistair said, "the bedrooms are on the second floor. I think you both have earned some free time." He smiled at both of them as he guided them upstairs.

Bennett was here after all… His wife? Howe could have been lying, but why bother, especially since she could see the lord signing away her freedom as quickly as he had her chained and beaten. Once settled in a small but beautifully decorated room, she pulled Zevran as close as she could and curled into him on the bed. They said nothing to each other for the next few hours while he held her until the tremors finally stopped. 


	26. Self Rescuing Royalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: mention of abuse and sexual assault

**Zevran**

The only thing keeping the bitch Queen alive was the dog, and the pun of that thought was not lost on Zevran. The wardens, Ashfur, and he had tried to rescue Queen Anora at the request of her handmaiden, Erlina. He smelled a trap form the start, but Alyssa thought the risk was worth it. Arl Eamon had pestered her enough to follow through, and Zevran was not about to let her walk alone into danger. Predictably, they were stopped at the last leg of the escape, but instead of rushing through, Queen Anora threw the wardens to the wolves. Though Alyssa could have slain Ser Cauthrian and her men where they stood, the conditions of Ashfur’s and Zevran’s release stopped her. If she and Alistair went willingly, the other two could go unimpeded. Zevran protested loudly with Ashfur at his side, growling in agreement. He almost got through to her before the Queen grabbed his arm and ran. When they were outside, Zevran reached for his daggers, seeing a red haze and tasting metal in his mouth. Ashfur jumped between Anora and Zevran, barking his fool head off at the elf. He had to bite Zevran to snap him out of it. No skin was broken, but he would have a nasty purple bruise for some time from it. They made their way back to Arl Eamon’s estate to deliver the news and figure out what to do next.

Queen Anora dashed into the Arl’s study, panic in her voice, “Eamon! I may have done a terrible thing!”

Zevran scoffed, “What’s this? She throws her savior to the wolves, and now she has second thoughts? I’m still waiting for a reason not to slit her throat and toss her in the river. I haven’t heard it yet.” He gripped one of his daggers hard enough to whiten his knuckles. 

“What in Andraste’s name has happened? Are you alright?” Eamon said, worry plain on his face. 

“The Wardens have been captured,” Anora said. 

The sound of blood rushing in his ears deafened Zevran from any conversation that followed. He already had one foot out the door when Ashfur raced up behind him and fell into lockstep. He never felt so alive as when he was breaking and entering. Add in a beautiful enchantress to rescue, and the guards at Fort Drakon had every reason to be afraid.

* * *

**Alyssa**

Alyssa’s head was killing her. They were already cooperating. The beating that followed was completely uncalled for, but she wasn’t surprised by it. As her eyes came into focus and the chill of the prison hit her skin, Alyssa realized she was naked except for her small clothes. Flashes of Lord Bennett’s dungeon came flooding back in such a rush that she lost her breath and started gasping for air. She heard a man’s voice next to her, and only then did she start screaming. He was shaking her and calling her name. ‘Calm down.’ ‘It’s ok.’ ‘You’re with me.’ None of this helped. Still disoriented and panic-stricken, Alyssa thrashed about to break his hold on her. He held her face firmly so she could see him and not the horror around them. 

Soft brown eyes, faint lines at the corners telling of past joy, his voice gentle and familiar. “Alistair?” Alyssa sobbed. “Alistair…what happened?”

His shoulders slumped and he pulled her into a full-body bear hug. “Thank the Maker. I thought that blow to the head killed you. Then you lost it when you came to.” Alistair kissed her brow. “You’re with me. In…in Fort Drakon.”

“Not Bennett’s estate?” She trembled in his arms, partly from the chill and mostly from the terror.

Alistair shook his head, “No, not there. But I don’t know what comfort that is, considering.”

Alyssa took the next few minutes to breathe deep and clear her mind. She wasn’t the only screaming in the prison. Faint cries of pain and shouts echoed off the stone, traveling down the corridors and filling any empty space they could. In the next cell over were several bodies, bloodied and stinking, all piled up in a disgusting rotten heap. She disentangled herself from Alistair’s arms. “We need to get out of here. The others are probably safe back at the Arl’s estate.” She touched the thick metal bars of the cell door. “And I didn’t say anything about staying put.”

“What’s the plan?”

She smiled, “Get help.”

Alistair smirked and then immediately fell to his knees, groaning as loud as possible. That was Alyssa’s queue.

“Help!! Someone help, please!! He needs a healer!! Can anyone hear me?”

A disgruntled young guard lumbered over, muttering to himself. “Shut up! Maker’s breath shut your fucking hole, woman!” He pointed to Alistair. “What the bloody hell is wrong with him?”

“I don’t know. He just collapsed and started screaming. Please you have to help him,” she squeezed out some tears to be more convincing, “He’s all I have. I’ll do anything.”

The guard smirked, “I won’t be cold tonight.” He licked his lips as he fumbled with the keys. Alyssa stepped back. As soon as the door swung open, Alistair lunged at the guard and wrestled him to the ground in a sleeper hold. Seconds later the guard was out.

“Works every time,” Alistair said. 

“Get his armor and weapons,” she said. “Walk me as far to the main doors as you can. Hopefully, we’ll find our stuff along the way.”

Alistair winced, “It feels wrong to be dressed when you aren’t.”

She waved him off, “We can worry about my modesty later. Besides, I’d look like a dwarf in that breastplate.”

“Fair enough.” 

Alistair didn’t have to walk her very far before they encountered a few more guards. They were playing poker with the Warden’s equipment as winnings, which made locating their supplies and clothes much easier. The fight that followed was quick and to the point. Alyssa’s cat transformation caught them by surprise, allowing Alistair to finish the group off quickly. 

After Alyssa finished buttoning up her robes, she held her hand out and caught her staff mid-flight. Flames wrapped around her shoulders, “Let’s go.”

Alistair slipped on his shield and nodded. “At your command.”

* * *

**Zevran**

Zevran stared up at the walls of Fort Drakon, towering over him. Black smoke carrying a sour smell rose from the chimneys crowning the prison, sending a halo of death up from the parapets. Somewhere inside was his Warden, behind walls of stone, doors of steel, and guards of various talent. First things first. Getting in.

Ashfur let out a soft ‘wuff’ to signal he was ready. 

“Let’s go, my friend,” Zevran said. “Just as we practiced.”

They walked side by side through the first set of doors to the guards staining at attention. The guard on the left spoke first. “What’s your business at Fort Drakon?”

“I am delivering this dog to your kennels,” Zevran said with some authority. Ashfur barked in agreement.

The guard looked over at the dog and rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t told we were getting a Mabari.”

Zevran, channeling his inner Arlessa, huffed and demanded, “Look, I brought this hound no small distance. I am not leaving her without payment.” He crossed his arms and looked pointedly at the guard. Another bark from Ashfur confirmed this. 

“Look, I don’t care— HEY!!” 

Ashfur had walked over to the guard and relieved himself right up the armor-clad man’s legs. Zevran swore the dog was laughing on the inside. 

“What in Andraste’s name!?” The guard yelled. 

His partner on the right side of the door guffawed loudly, “Good dog.”

The main guard grumbled, “I’ve got to go change…this is disgusting.” He lumbered further inside the fort, occasionally shaking his leg and leaving a trail of pee freckles behind him.

Still giggling to himself, the remaining guard instructed Zevran and Ashfur to wait in one of the side chambers while he retrieved the guard captain.

Ashfur whined while they waited. He looked up at Zevran.

“They fell for it. Now we only have to wait,” Zevran said.

The Mabari cocked his head to the side.

“Don’t look so surprised. I’m a professional.”

They cleared the guard captain and were on their way toward the cell blocks. Enormous stationary crossbows lined the sides of the antechamber, with about a dozen or so soldiers milling among them. Zevran and Ashfur went mostly unnoticed until they came to the cell block, also guarded, but this time by a higher ranking soldier. Zevran knew that she wasn’t going to be as gullible as the two idiots who basically let them waltz through without so much as a pat-down.

The pair looked at each other. “Don’t worry. I have an idea,” Zevran said.

Suddenly the door exploded outward a spray of splinters and cinders, sending guards running and ducking for cover. As the smoke cleared, Zevran saw the lovely shape of his Grey Warden step through the shattered remains of the door, staff in hand, and wreathed in flame. His heart fluttered, “Ah, my dear Warden. Did you miss me?”

* * *

**Alyssa**

It was Zevran that suggested drinks at The Gnawed Noble after the ordeal at Fort Drakon. Alyssa had tossed back three shots of whiskey before taking a breath. 

Alistair sat next to her at the bar. “Do you want to talk—”

“No.”

“Are you—”

“Yes.”

“I’ve never seen you like—”

Alyssa slammed the glass on the bar top. “Gods damn it, Alistair, shut up!”

A few heads turned in their direction, but her outburst was quickly forgotten in the bustle of drinks and small plates being served. She heard Alistair speak to Zevran as he walked away, “You need to talk to her.”

She heard the stool next to her creak softly under Zevran’s weight as he sat down. His hand was warm on her arm. “I don’t feel like taking, Zev.”

“We can do other things than talk if you wish,” he said. She could hear the smile in his voice. From the corner of her eye, she saw a glass placed by his wrist and a few coins left out for the barkeeper. The ambient sound of clinking glass and murmured conversations filled her ears, oddly comforting. It was such a contrast from less than an hour ago where the sound was so terrible. Soft laughter. Boots on wood. A door opening and closing. Zevran had motioned for the barkeeper to fill both of their glasses again. Instead of slamming it back like the ones she had already had, Alyssa ran her fingers over the smooth glass lip and exhaled in a shuddering sigh. 

“Like what?” She asked, finally answering him.

“Drink. Sit with each other. Enjoy the calm.” Zevran rubbed the back of his hand against hers. “Not everything needs to lead to a tumble.”

Alyssa smiled. Grimaced was more accurate. “They couldn’t hold me this time.”

“Indeed, they could not.”

“You still came for me.”

“Until you send me from your service, Warden.”

She smiled honestly this time, “You know I hate it when you talk like that.” Their eyes met. Her heartbeat quickened, looking into his golden eyes, like the first time on the back of Bohdan’s cart. Alyssa leaned in closer, and Zevran slipped his arm around her waist. Their lips were less than an inch apart when she heard a voice that made her blood run cold.

“Little fox.”

The glass shattered in her hand. Alyssa leaped off the barstool and grabbed her staff. 

Alistair was at her side in a flash, blade drawn, “Alyssa, what….” He clapped eyes on the man standing a foot away from the bar. Lord Bennett and his elven servant. “Maker’s breath.” 

Lord Bennett ignored Alistair and focused on Alyssa, “You’ve finally come home to me. I was so worried after you disappeared before the ceremony. Come along now. You have much to catch up on, starting with our long-delayed wedding night.”

Maybe it was the whiskey that loosened her up, but when Alyssa’s surprise wore off, she was able to get a good look at the man she had been terrorized by for almost a year. He was average height, not the towering visage she remembered. Graying hair, coming out of more than just his head, spindly arms, and stains all down his robes. She tapped Alistair’s arm to have him move aside. Bennett smiled broadly, revealing brown and yellow teeth set in too much gum.

Alyssa laughed. A short bark at first, but then it built into a hearty belly laugh that almost brought tears to her eyes. 

Lord Bennett’s face turned as red as it possibly could. “What’s the meaning of this?”

“I can’t believe it,” Alyssa gasped for air between laughs, “I was scared of you?! You miserable old codger. I’ve been running from you for months now. The phantom haunting my steps and driving my nightmares is just a sad old man, using stronger and younger men to dispatch his anger on others.”

“Hold your tongue, wench! I’ll not have a bitch born whore like you insult me!” He pulled back his arm and swung it at her, full force.

Alyssa caught his wrist. Her laughter vanished, but the flames never manifested. Lord Bennett’s face twisted in rage, “You dare—”

“This is mine now.” Alyssa’s voice was granite. “You had me tortured for weeks, and then you intended to rape me. Probably every night for the rest of my life. I have fought my way here through dangers and hardships you will never know, hidden away in your keep.” She twisted his arm hard enough to spin him around. “I’m not that scared little girl whose father you had murdered.” She pulled it behind him until he yelped. “I am a Grey Warden.” She grabbed his hair and bent his head backward until her mouth was near his furry ear. “If I catch you again, you will beg for death before the end.”

Alyssa pushed him forward hard enough to send him spilling out onto the ornate rug. Every eye in the tavern was on the two of them, with the few guards there completely dumbstruck at what they were seeing. “I’m giving you one chance you sack of filth. Get out of Fereldan and you can keep your life. Stay, and I’ll take it from you.”

Bennett’s servant tried his best to get the shamed lord to his feet. Bennett shoved him away as the lord regained his balance. “You are still legally my wife, and there’s nothing you can do to change that. You belong to me.”

“I belong to myself.” Alyssa smirked broadly, “and when you die, your fortune passes to me. Why would I want to change that?”

He screamed the foulest insult he could call to mind and lunged at her. Alyssa caught him in the gut with her staff and pushed him back. 

Translucent whips of flame wrapped around her limbs and flickered sensually upward, becoming more opaque by the moment. The Warden Mage, wreathed in dragon fire, stood towering over the simpering lord as he scrambled toward the door. She pulled back the fire as early as breathing. Not one item around her was singed, not even the rugs. “Wow. Door didn’t even hit his ass.”

Alistair waited one more moment before he swooped Alyssa into his arms and hugged her, kissing both her cheeks. “That was spectacular!” 

“Yeah, we need to go drinking more often,” she said. Her voice was shaking a little, but it was outweighed by an overwhelming feeling of relief. 

“I was so worried. Back at the prison…” Alistair put her gently bacon her feet. “I don’t understand. What changed?”

For a moment, Alyssa didn’t know how to respond. The adrenaline that hit her system was still racing through her, making her tremble hard. “Me. I think I changed. After all we’ve been through.” It took a few more deep breaths and quiet moments before the worst of it subsided. It was then that she noticed one of them was missing. “Where did Zevran go?” She looked over Alistair’s shoulder to see if Zevran was elsewhere in the pub.

Alistair turned to where Zevran was seated moments ago. “That’s a good question. He was right here.”

They looked at each other when it dawned on them.

“Should we stop him?” Alistair asked.

Alyssa looked at the door, mulling over her options. As far as she was concerned, she fought her battle and won. What happened after wasn’t important. She turned to Alistair, “How about a bottle of Orlesian honey wine instead?”

“Make it a Sun Blonde Vint, and you have a deal.”


	27. Served Cold

**Zevran**

Zevran stayed long enough at the tavern to get a look at Lord Bennett. He was out the back door before Alistair’s sword was completely unsheathed. It was a few minutes before the lord burst out the front door looking like someone had roughed him up. After the door was slammed, the lord started to beat and swear at his man-servant. When he was satisfied by the young elf’s cringing, he put himself together and headed further into the city. 

Cloaked in shadows, Zevran followed the lord for quite some time until they turned down a quiet side street. He watched for a few more moments to make sure they were the only ones within earshot.

“My lord,” Zevran stepped onto the street.

Lord Bennett and his servant turned around. 

“My lady sends her regards.”

A silver flash of poisoned blades drew a crimson spray from Bennett’s throat. He fell to his knees and then face down into a pool of blood, cooling in the late afternoon.

The elven servant looked at his fallen lord and then to Zevran. “Is your lady hiring?”

Zevran stepped back into the shadows without another word.


	28. Judas is the Demon I Cling to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zevran confronts Taliesen in Denerim.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be tinkering with this and future chapters for flow and grammar. I wanted to get them posted ASAP so please forgive any glaring spelling and grammar errors.

**Zevran**

Somewhere on the way back to Arl Eamon's estate, Zevran found himself walking down deserted back alleys, winding through Denerim's warehouse district. Nothing but the sound of scavenger birds broke the silence resting heavily on this part of the city. The hair on the back of his neck started to prickle as a familiar scent hit his nostrils. Sandalwood. Sword oil. Blood.

Zevran spun around on his heel only to see his old friend Taliesen standing at the top of a flight of steps leading to a ramshackle house. 

"And so here is the mighty Zevran at long last. The Crows send their regards," Taliesen said with a toothy grin. He hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his leather armor and looked down at Zevran. He pursed his lips. "It's been a while, my friend."

Zevran, for his part, kept his blades at the ready, "So they sent you Taliesen, or did you volunteer for the job?"

Taliesen laughed, "I volunteered, of course." He descended the steps as he spoke, "When I heard that the great Zevran had gone rouge, I simply had to see it for myself." He stopped on the second to last step and looked down at Zevran.

Zevran felt prickles of sweat form across his skin. Flashes of movement from the rooftops behind and around Taliesen revealed reinforcements. It wasn't a surprise that he had brought help, but it was disheartening. Even if he was able to kill Taliesen, the other Crows would undoubtedly kill him as well. He sneered, "Well, here I am, in the flesh."

"Oh, I can see that," Taliesen glanced up at the rooftops, confirming that they were surrounded. "I was told to offer you the chance to return. The masters don't want to lose their investment after all, and you were one of the best. Since you've been gone, that honor has fallen to me."

"Was it cold there in my shadow, mi amor?" He smirked.

Taliesen's eyes narrowed to slits, "A smart arse to the end, I see. As if that hasn't gotten you into enough trouble."

Zevran glanced quickly at the rooftops. "Let me guess, you're not eager to bring me back alive, are you?"

Taliesen shrugged. "Would you be in my position? None of us would be able to trust you in any case. Not after joining up with the wardens. Not after what happened on the merchant job. Your judgment hasn't improved, I see."

Zevran's throat almost closed up. Memories of pleading eyes and blood-streaked floors came back in a rush. He brandished his twin blades, trembling in his hands but still dripping with poison and the lord's blood. Dropping into an attack stance, Zevran braced himself for what could be his last fight. Glaring at Taliesen, he said, "Take me on if you wish, but I will not go so easily, and you should have stayed in Antiva."

Arrows poured in by the hundreds, almost blotting out the sun. Zevran closed his eyes, but before a single one found its mark, a crackle of magic shuddered through all of them. The arrows stopped inches from his body and hovered in midair as if held by invisible hands. He looked around, shock plain on his face, and mirrored on Taliesen's. The Warden's voice broke the silence, "What happened? Swords at dawn lost its charm?"

Zevran turned to see the Warden Mage make her way through the cloud of arrows. They parted and clattered to the ground as she walked by, leaving an eerie path through the remaining frozen projectiles. "Warden? How?"

"I was worried," she placed a hand on his shoulder. "When you didn't come back, I asked the guards where Bennett went and guessed from there."

Zevran said, "I hope I didn't overstep."

She kissed his cheek.

"It's not enough one woman died for you; now you have another fighting your battles," Taliesen scoffed.

"Oh shut up," Alyssa said. "You brought an army for one man. He may have the market cornered on bragging, but all this?" She waved around at the Crows, currently reloading their bows. "Admits that he's as good as he says. Or that you're afraid of him."

"Of him? Afraid? Why the hell should I?"

"Aside from his ability to form coherent sentences?" She snapped her fingers. The arrows rotated in midair and flew back to their shooters, pinning them against chimneys, boards, and each other. Weapons flew from their hands and their belts. Spare arrows melted into each other making them impossible to draw. "Because he has friends too."

He looked to his men on the roofs and rolled his eyes, making a clicking noise with his tongue. Glaring back at the Warden, he asked, "Did he even bother to tell you what happened the last time a woman claimed to love him? I'll save you the mystery. It didn't end well."

Panic ripped through Zevran, intensifying as Taliesen continued.

"Your little sweetheart here didn't blink when he cut her throat. Didn't ask if the information was good, did you?" He sneered. "Always did as you were told. Good thing too. The bitch was just slowing us down. You were never any fun after she caught your eye. Do you even remember her name? I bloody well don't."

Zevran's head snapped to Taliesen, a rushing sound in his ears, deafening him. Red started to fill his vision as he heard Alyssa shout, "You set him up! You fuck—"

Most of what happened was a blur; merely bits and pieces making it through the blood haze. Clashing metal, explosive powder, splintering wood, all merged into a giant mess. His skin was cut, but there was no pain. Cracking bones and ripping tendons were ignored as Zevran and Taliesen tumbled down the steps. They grappled each other across the gravel, kicking and slicing wildly. Punches flew, some landing and others missing entirely. They threw dirt in each other's faces and grabbed at limbs that flailed out for weapons lost in the commotion. 

Taliesen's hand found Zevran's dagger and pushed it deep into the elf's ribs. Instead of reacting to the wound, Zevran grabbed Taliesen's throat and squeezed as hard as he could. The dagger twisted under his rib cage, blood pouring from the hole that was growing by the second. Zevran kept squeezing. Taliesen's eyes started to bulge and fill with blood from broken capillaries. He gurgled and clawed at Zevran's hands, no longer pushing blade deeper. His grip tightened further, ignoring Taliesen's struggle until he felt a hard snap vibrate up his arms. 

Taliesen went limp. His eyes rolled back and his mouth went slack, blood running from where he bit his tongue. Finally, Zevran let go and staggered to his feet, favoring his right leg. The dagger was still lodged in his side, and he could feel the fire of the poison racing through his veins. He collapsed to his knees, watching his blood run from between his fingers and cover the ground in an alarmingly large pool. Gradually the red faded from his vision, and sound returned to his ears. He heard Alyssa's voice from over his shoulder, "What did you want to do about the rooftops?" The poison was overtaking him now. Feeling in his limbs stopped suddenly, and he came down hard on his injured side. He tried to look up at the Warden, but it was hard to see now; only watery blurred color and shapeless blobs.

Before he lost consciousness, he said in a weak voice, "No witnesses…."

* * *

**Zevran**

He was on something soft. His body sank into it, and there was warmth from something covering him. The last time he was this cozy was in Arl Eamon's estate in Redcliffe. Zevran opened his eyes slowly and saw Alistair reading in a plush chair near a dying fire. "Alistair?" His voice was more of a weak growl that hurt his throat.

Alistair jumped to his feet, "Don't talk. You've been out for four days now." He helped Zevran get more comfortable, short of sitting up in bed. "You shouldn't move around too much. Whatever you had on those blades nearly killed you. You're lucky we got you back here in time."

"Where is Alyssa?" Zevran strained to sit up more but couldn't manage. His skin felt like it was on too tight, and there was a dull ache under his ribs. 

Alistair kept his hand on Zevran's shoulder. "Resting, and you should be too. Do you think you can manage food or water?"

He pushed Alistair's hand away or at least tried too. Keeping his eyes open was a challenge. "I have to speak to her…" With a sigh, he sank down into the bedding, trying to ignore a headache starting up.

Alistair waited until he settled back down. "Do you know why I'm not stopping you?" He hooked his thumbs into his belt loops.

Zevran shook his head.

"Because you're so weak you can't even pull the blanket off you. There's no way you're getting out of that bed, and if by some miracle you do, I'll kiss Oghren full on the mouth."

Zevran smiled for a moment, but the dark thoughts caught up with him. "Please, Alistair. Things were…were said. I'd rather… she hears the full story… from me." Getting a full sentence out was a struggle, and he was panting by the end of it. Heaviness in his body forced him to slide back down under the covers. He looked up at Alistair, wanting to ask again but unable. 

Gently, Alistair placed his hand under Zevran's chin and turned it a chair off to the left. "Poor thing is exhausted. She wouldn't stop until the poison was out, and then she wouldn't sleep until your color came back." Zevran felt his heart beat faster as Alistair continued. "I told her to go rest, but she insisted on being here. The chair was my idea; otherwise, she would be curled up at the foot of your bed along with Ashfur." At this, the dog picked up his head, surprising Zevran. He hadn't noticed the animal's weight before. Alistair continued, "The two of you are so stubborn, I swear you were made for each other."

Too many thoughts crashed into his mind at the same time. Zevran turned onto his good side, away from Alistair, unable to speak. He drew the covers over his head so that Alistair couldn't see the tears he had no strength left to hide. 


	29. Unbreak My Heart

**Alyssa**

Alyssa tumbled out of the chair, gasping for air, and swinging wildly at shadows. There was nothing attacking her. No arrows. No Crow assassins. No lords. Only the crackling hearth fire and a soft wind fluttering the curtains greeted her as her mind cleared from her dream state. 

She heard Zevran say, "Cara, are you alright?" He was trying to sit up but was still having trouble. 

"Don't," Alyssa rushed to help him, "you'll open up the wound again. It took hours to seal it." She hooked her arms under his and lifted gently, shifting his weight onto her shoulders to fluff up his pillows. He lowered himself back down, wincing when he moved too much. "Are you hungry? Do you need water?" She pulled at the covers, tucking them under his chin.

"Stop. Cara, stop fussing," Zevran held her hands and pulled her close.

"I thought I'd lost you." Alyssa touched her brow to his. "The gash in your side was bad enough, but I didn't know what poison you used, and it took so long to figure it out."

"Lanthrax."

Alyssa leaned back to look at him, "Don't remind me. I almost fainted when I looked it up, and I'm not the squeamish type." She shook her head. "How did you even get your hands on that? It's illegal in 3 countries."

“Not in Antiva,” he winked.

"No, you don't get to be cute yet. I'm still annoyed with you."

Zevran slipped his arms around her, "Shall I try to convince you otherwise?" 

He tugged her forward, but Alyssa pushed back. "We need to talk." She watched as he sagged back into the bedding, the light in his eyes dulling, but he didn't protest or deflect. "What happened when Taliesen caught you? I've never seen you lose control like that."

He sighed, letting his breath out slowly and coughing a bit at the end of it. Alyssa guessed that his chest was still tight and trying to heal on its own. After a moment, Zevran said, "I suppose it is time. You have been a good friend to me and more. There is no reason to be silent." He couldn't meet her eyes, but he kept his word and started telling her his story.

"There is a reason I accepted this mission in Fereldan, far away from home. It had nothing to do with any thought that I would leave the crows. Meeting you, after all, was quite an accident.

My last mission before this one did not end well. The mission itself was quite successful. I mean, it did not end well for me. You must realize that until that day, I was cocky and arrogant. I was the best crow in Antiva, I believed, and I bragged of my conquests often. Both as an assassin and lover."

Alyssa smiled, "That must have been impressive."

Zevran grimaced, "Hah, indeed…" He closed his eyes before continuing. "I was often told I was insufferable, right before I ended up in bed with someone. Such is how it was. One of the crow masters grew tired of my boasting. My bid for an incredibly difficult mark was accepted, much to my surprise. A wealthy merchant with many guards. Taliesen volunteered to be part of my team as well as an elven lass named Rinna." Zevran's jaw tightened, and he turned his face from Alyssa. It seemed that looking directly at each other was too much, too heavy, and his injuries were weighing him down enough. She waited, making sure not to interrupt, afraid that he might retreat again. He always deflected when she got too close to him. Night air mixed with the glow from the fire. Light and crisp playing against dense and warm, almost reflecting their moods. 

"If this is too hard…"

"No," he said. "No, it is best that you hear this from me." One of the fire logs popped and fell aside in the hearth. Servants could be heard bustling about on the other side of the door. Alyssa let these sounds wash over her as she waited for Zevran to continue. 

"She was a marvel. Tough, smooth, wicked, eyes that gleamed like justice. Everything I thought I desired. Rinna was special." He scoffed with a smirk, "I had closed off my heart, I thought, but she touched something within me. It frightened me. Taliesen had revealed to me that Rinna had accepted a bribe from the merchant and told him of our plan. Believing him, I readily agreed that she had to pay the price. Rinna begged me not to." He clenched his fists. "On her knees with tears in her eyes, she told me that she loved me and had not betrayed us. I laughed in her face and said, even if it were true, I didn't care." As he spoke, Zevran curled further and further into himself, bringing his knees as close to his chest as he could and lowering his head. 

Alyssa rubbed his back, "That obviously wasn't true."

"I convinced myself that it was…."

She noticed that his hair was loose. Greasy and tangled. Making a note to help him get cleaned up, Alyssa started braiding it in the fashion he usually kept it. Two small side braids tied into a longer one down the back. She was most of the way through when Zevran spoke again.

"In truth, it wasn't I that actually killed her. Taliesen had done this, but it may as well have been my hand."

Alyssa nodded, "This was what the Guardian was talking about at the Temple of Sacred Ashes.'

He nodded. "When Taliesen and I finally assassinated the merchant, we found the true source of his information. Or, at least, what I believed to be the truth." He closed his eyes and swallowed hard, tensing his jaw. "Rinna had not betrayed us after all. I wanted to tell the crows what we had done, our mistake. Taliesen convinced me not to."

"Because that fucking bastard was the source," Alyssa growled. Her fire flashed for a moment before vanishing. She shook with anger that threatened to ignite again, but the man was dead, and there was no one for her to punish. Alyssa rubbed her face, "I can't believe someone would do that."

Zevran didn't respond or look over at her. All that was offered was an apathetic shrug. "Even so, I reported that Rinna had died in the attempt. The master that disliked me said the Crows knew, and they didn't care. He said one day, my turn would come."

Alyssa kissed his brow, lingering her forehead against his, "I cannot even imagine how you felt."

"I felt empty." He kept his eyes on the blanket, actively avoiding looking at her face. "I felt as if I was nothing. As if she had been nothing." 

His words hung between them, only the sound of the fire crackling merrily way and the night birds outside the window starting to sing as dusk fell. A tightness gripped Alyssa's chest as she watched him. Head hung, arms close to his body, but no tears. She assumed he was beyond them, so lost in his grief finally voiced. Now it was her turn to be brave. No more running. Alyssa took a deep breath before she said, "You are everything to me. For what it's worth…" Suddenly unsure of herself, she looked away. 

The bed creaked under his weight as he moved to her. He turned her chin gently towards him. "You once asked me why I wanted to leave the crows. In truth, what I wanted was to die." He smiled broadly, "What better way than to throw myself at one of the fabled Grey Wardens." The smile faded, "And then this happened, and here I am. It feels good to speak of it to someone. I swore I never would. Whatever it is I sought by leaving Antiva, I think I have found it."

"Your freedom?"

"My Warden."

"Zevran, I lo—"

The door burst open, and Arl Eamon swept into the room in a fit. "Alyssa, you have to talk sense into Alistair! The landsmeet is in mere hours, and now I hear that he's backing Anora to keep the throne. This is simply unacceptable."

She hadn't looked away from Zevran during Eamon's outburst, so he was treated to the parade of expressions that ranged from surprise to anger. With a burdened sigh, Alyssa closed her eyes and responded. "Holy Andraste, give me the strength to resist burning this keep to the ground and the wisdom to remember how locks work."

Zevran started laughing. It was slow at first but built up quickly. With tears forming at the corner of his eyes, he said, "Mi corazon, I too have had my fair share with troublesome locks."


	30. With This Ring

**Zevran**

Zevran decided that the best part about being mortally wounded and surviving was the bath given by the maids in Arl Eamon's Denerim home. Two of the younger elven women had partnered up to help him into a claw foot marble bathtub filled with hot soapy water. As soon as his skin touched the water, a most delightful ripple of warmth flowed through him. Lanni, a shapely dark-haired elf, chattered away as she washed his hair with a blend of rosemary and tea tree oils. The soap was made his scalp tingle and reminded him of the windy days they spent on the roads, the scent of grass and flowers sweeping across the landscape. Rose, a more demure and older human woman, bustled about the bathing room cleaning and mending his clothing. The three of them passed the time with pleasant conversation and some regaling from Zevran about the adventures that brought them to Denerim. He was in the middle of telling them how they found the Urn of Sacred Ashes when Rose had pulled a singled jeweled earring from one of his pockets. Zevran felt his stomach drop into his feet. He tried reaching out from the tub but couldn't manage to do more than sloshing the water around.

"This is beautiful." Rose turned the earring in the light, red and gold glinting from the gems. "But the setting here has come loose. I'll fetch my tools and tighten that up for you."

"You are a jeweler?" Zevran asked.

"I tinker a little," she smiled. "My husband, Maker, keep him, taught me some of the trade." Her smiled faded as she stared past the earring.

Lanni put a hand on her shoulder. "It will be a year tomorrow, won't it."

Rose nodded and wiped a tear from her cheeks. She patted Lanni's hand. "Twenty-three years together and still it wasn't enough. When you find love, dear, run to it. Run to it with your arms open. Even when it ends, it is everything."

The three were quiet for some time after. Lanni had gotten Zevran a clean robe and helped him out of the bath. He was able to stand under his own strength now and tied his robe unassisted. With a smile, he accepted his tailored clothes from Rose and said, "There is a saying where I am from. 'Though their life may be over, your love is immortal.'"

Rose's eyes clouded over with tears, but she smiled. He felt her put something in his hand. Opening it, he said the jeweled earring, settings repaired, links tightened, and gems polished. Zevran turned it over in his hand, letting the jewels catch the light. "This is excellent work."

Zevran flinched when the sound of Alyssa's voice boomed in the hallway outside. It was muffled, but he was sure she was yelling at Eamon. He shook his head and chuckled deeply, feeling the sound resonate pleasantly in his chest. When her voice faded, he turned to thank the maids for their service and found them both with knowing smiles. "Please, don't get the wrong idea," he held up his hands. "She spared my life and then freed me from the Crows. I owe her a debt and nothing more."

Lanni tilted her head to the side, "And that's why you carry a betrothal ring with you?"

"That—" Zevran snorted, "that is not what that is!"

"Well, your ears aren't pierced."

Glaring at her, Zevran stuck the pointy end of the earring straight through his right earlobe. He kept his face still as the jab sparked down his neck and made his jaw shiver. With a curt nod, he said, "Thank you both for your service, but I must go now. Please take care of yourselves."

Before he was out of earshot, he heard Lanni ask Rose, "Was it something I said?"

* * *

**Zevran**

Arguing was spilling out from the Arl's study and into the hallway when Zevran approached. Instead of getting involved, he leaned against the doorjamb and listened. "Eamon, we have been through this enough times already," Alyssa said, "Alistair has no interest in being king."

"And I have every interest in staying Queen," Anora chimed in. "Yes, my father has made some serious errors in judgment—"

Alistair yelled over her, "Like being a murdering—"

"Alistair!" Alyssa had to push him back to make him stand down.

He pushed back, unrelenting and screaming at Anora, "My brothers and sisters, Alyssa! That man murdered them all! He murdered Calin, he murdered Duncan, and he almost murdered you! If her ass is on the throne, he will be pardoned, and I won't be responsible for my actions." Alistair shook as he spoke.

Arl Eamon jumped at the opportunity. "Then you must take the throne, Alistair. If you indeed wish to avenge your fallen allies and your brother, you must be king."

Alyssa shook her head. "Right for the throat. Eamon, I'm …well, not shocked but disappointed."

"And I suppose you have a better idea?" Eamon asked.

Zevran felt the warmth of a person crossing from behind him when Leliana appeared at his side. She said, "They've been at it for almost an hour now, going back and forth over the same thing."

He shook his head. "Ridiculous. I thought this was settled already."

"Some men don't take 'no' for an answer," Leliana said. She squinted at him, "Is your ear bleeding?"

"What? No," he fidgeted with the earring to get it loose from his earlobe.

Leliana reached for his ear only to have her hands batted away. "Yes, you are, it's all red. When did you start wearing jewelry?" She waited until he turned away and again tried touching his ear. He swatted at her arm.

Zevran spoke over the arguing. "Arl Eamon, you're wasting your breath. So long as Alistair is in love, he will never take the throne." Ignoring Eamon's alarmed expression, Zevran nodded to Anora, "My Queen, you seem capable enough. Keep your throne, but know this." He pinned her with his golden-eyed glare and spoke softly, "I will not forget how you abandoned the Grey Wardens to Fort Drakon. Endanger their lives again, and your entire army cannot save you from me." He backed out of the room and headed to his chambers. Heat raced up and down the back of his neck, and his fists were clenched tight. Before his hand was on the doorknob, he heard Alyssa calling to him.

"Zevran, wait."

He popped open the door and, with his free hand, caught her by the waist sweeping her inside. He pressed her up against the door, kissing her deeply and running his hands down her sides. She gasped when he traced his lips down her neck. "Zev, wait."

He pulled back, "Si, amor?" Watching the different shades of red and pink playing on her face was most enjoyable, as was the giddy smile she was trying to control.

"I…wait." She squinted. "Is your ear bleeding?"

"Maker's breath!" These women would be the death of him. He scowled, "No."

"Uh, ok." Alyssa shook her head and changed the subject. "Did you mean what you said about Anora staying queen?"

Zevran nodded, "Of course. It makes sense, doesn't it?" He took a step back. "She is capable, the people know her, and she doesn't seem to support what her father did."

"You don't think she would turn on us? Again, I mean." Alyssa touched his earlobe and healed the puncture. Zevran yanked his head away. "What? It looked infected."

He took both of her hands in his. "You and the Arl have been shouting about this for hours. Trust yourself. Trust Alistair. Both of you had made your choices long before coming here, and as I see it, nothing has changed."

Alyssa nodded. "I wish I had your confidence in me." She tucked a loose lock of his hair behind his ear.

He pulled her closer. "I…I have something for you, cara."

"More internal bleeding?" She nuzzled his neck.

"No," he chuckled, "no, not just yet." Reaching into his pocket, he fumbled around for the earring, doing his best to wipe off the blood from earlier. "It seems an appropriate moment to give you this."

She accepted it. "My god. Zevran, this is beautiful!" It was a ring of solid gold with tiny star-shaped diamonds and teardrop rubies hanging from delicate rose gold links. "Where did you get this? Are you sure you want to give it away?"

Tremors filled his chest, and his stomach tightened. "Yes, quite sure. As for where it came from, I acquired it on my very first job for the Crows. A Rivani merchant prince, who was wearing a single jeweled earring when I killed him." He smirked as he remembered, "In fact, that was about all he was wearing. I thought it was beautiful and took it to mark the occasion. I've kept it since." His hands felt sweaty. "I'd like you to have it."

"I wish my ears were pierced. Well, at least one of them anyway."

It was getting harder to breathe. Zevran started pacing the room, doing his best to avoid looking at her. "Taliesen is dead, and as far as the Crows will be concerned, I died with him. That means I'm free, at least for now." Now his back was to her. "Feel free to sell it or wear it, whatever you like. It's really the least I could give you in return." He started wringing his hands.

Just before the vibrations in his chest overtook him, Zevran felt Alyssa slip her arms around him. "It's perfect. You're perfect."

The tremors turned into his heart crashing against his ribs so hard it knocked the air out of his lungs. He turned in Alyssa's arms. "Look, it's is just a reward for all that you've done. Nothing more."

She said wryly, "You always give jewelry to girls that help you escape assassination syndicates?"

"It's meant a lot to me but so have…," he grasped her arms and moved her away from his body, "so has what you've done." She was still so close. Honeysuckle and pine sap, now mixed with wood smoke from the fire. It was better than any Orlesian perfume.

"Well," Alyssa tugged at his belt, "we have a little time to ourselves. I could do more."

"Cara, wait," Zevran stopped her hands. His knees felt weak, but not in a fun way, and his lips were going numb.

She looked up at him, "Are you ok? Did you not want to?"

"No..I mean..no.. no offense, I simply….no." He crossed the room to put some distance between them.

"Ah, not before the wedding night?" She laughed and sat on his bed, knocking her heels together. "Fair enough. Did you have a date in mind? I hear the Anderfels are beautiful this time of year."

He growled," I told you before, it's not a token of affection."

"Of course not."

That was it. Zevran narrowed his eyes. "You are a very frustrating woman to deal with, you know that? We pick up every other bit of treasure we come across, but not this." Zevran grabbed her wrist and yanked the earring out of her hand. "You don't want the earring, you don't get the earring. Very simple." He didn't bother turning around when she called out to him. Gripped tight, the earring dug into his hand, making new holes in the flesh of his palm as he stormed down the hall.

* * *

**Zevran**

Fifteen doors and two flights of stairs later, Zevran found himself on the catwalk surrounding the keep and facing outward to the city. The view was spectacular. His mood didn't match. Zevran leaned his elbows on the cold stone walls, turning the earring over and over in his hands. Below him were happy couples walking arm in arm, mothers ushering their children through the square, and old friends chatting near the Chantry. A leaded feeling sank in his stomach.

_Harden your heart. Sentiment will kill you. If it doesn't, we will kill you._

The Crow training echoed in his mind as if he had just learned it yesterday. He remembered the sex workers at the brothel where he was raised and how they would tell you anything you wanted to hear for a price. Even then, the workers there cared somewhat about their patrons. And the only risk of a knife in your back was from the madam if you mistreated her charges. On one occasion, he had gone back to the brothel to visit the only family he had ever really known, and the madam had offered him a job. Even if he wanted to, leaving the Crows was not an option. Maybe if he was better at hiding as a child, he would have missed the slavers that raided the place that fateful day.

Zevran ran his hands over his face and through his hair, resting his forehead on the stone wall. That was the problem, wasn't it? He struggled so damn hard to close himself off, and he was terrible at it. Rinna picked the lock on his heart with a smile, and it was all downhill from there. What followed was a spectacular disaster. Again he swore he would never let anyone else in. Enter the Warden Mage and how dare she be so…so…

Scraping of thick nails against stone padded up to Zevran and warm doggy breath was felt against his leg. Zevran reached down and scratched Ashfur behind the ears. "How is it you always know when it's too much and exactly where to find me? It can't be the treats in my pocket since you ate them all yesterday."

Ashfur sat back on his rump and pawed at Zevran's arm. He opened his hand to show the Mabari the earring. Big brown doggy eyes looked up. Ashfur chuffed, one followed by another, and lolled out his tongue.

Zevran cocked his head, "You're laughing at me, aren't you!"

Ashfur nodded.

"Why?"

The dog stopped panting and looked back at Zevran deadpan.

Zevran looked away. "I did not run."

"Wuf."

"Well, you weren't there, were you!"

"Grrrrrrr. WUF WUF!" Ashfur snorted.

His chest felt like it was caving in. "I can't. Not after all I've done. Not after I…" He looked down at the earring, "…not after I took it back. What would I even say?" A lump formed in his throat and his hands shook again.

Ashfur whined and followed up with, "Roooowooo, Arf."

Zevran hung his head. "I can't. Not this time."

Ashfur growled louder this time and started barking. Startled, Zevran backed away, unsure of what had come over the dog. Ashfur leaped at Zevran, snapping his jaws and snarling. "What is wrong with you, fool dog!?" At that, the Mabari nipped at his heels, driving him toward the door leading back inside. He rammed into the elf, sending him ass over teakettle halfway down the stairs and chased him down the hall.

Zevran ran at full tilt with Ashfur hot on his heels, barking and growling. When Zevran would go for one of the many doors, Ashfur would dart in front and drive him back down the hallway. Back on the first floor of the keep, Zevran saw his bedroom door and dove into it, slamming it shut with his foot. Sweat was running off his body in rivers, and the stab wound in his side was on fire with pain. He panted, " _Maldito perro_!" Fighting to get his breath, he let his head sink to the floor and willed the room to stop spinning. Something caught his eye. There was a piece of paper that fluttered off the nightstand and landed just out of reach. He rolled over and unfolded it.

_'Zevran,_

_I'm sorry for what I said. I didn't mean to hurt you or make you feel threatened. I know it's hard for both of us to open up and be vulnerable, even with each other, and I shouldn't have teased like that. I took it too far. I wanted to say this in person, but I couldn't find you. I don't know If I'll be able to talk to you before the Landsmeet, but maybe I can apologize properly afterward._

_~ Alyssa'_

He closed his fist around the note and muttered, "The dog is right... _Braska_!"


	31. As the World Falls Down

**Alyssa**

Alyssa felt the color draining from her face as Riordan walked her and Alistair through the reason behind The Joining. Dying young and being sent into the Deep Roads to do so was terrible enough. Being possessed by an elder god that would rip her apart from the inside out, was far worse. A loud ringing in her ears drowned out his voice as he continued. Alistair didn’t look like he was feeling any better, chewing on his thumbnail and pacing the room. 

“As the senior Grey Warden, I should be the one to strike the killing blow,” Riordan said, finishing up. No one spoke for a while. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

Alyssa nodded, “Yeah, it’s big.” She rubbed her forehead, feeling her stomach flip with her next words. “There’s something I need to tell you both.”

“Please let it be a knock-knock joke,” Alistair groaned.

“Not exactly.” She pursed her lips. “I haven’t been able to feel the darkspawn as easily. When I first went through the joining, I could sense them a mile off, but now it’s much harder. Coming back to Redcliffe, I didn’t feel anything until one of them was practically on top of me. Is that normal?”

Riordan shook his head, “No, if anything, you should be more sensitive to them, not less.”

“Maybe your body is healing it,” Alistair said. “Your powers have grown exponentially since we first met. You’ve healed wounds that should have been mortal.”

“I’ve only ever heard of that happening once, and I thought it was just rumored,” said Riordan. “Another mage supposedly was dismissed from the ranks for showing no sign of the taint.”

“Can you feel them at all?” Alistair asked.

Alyssa nodded, “A little, but like I said, it takes much more effort now.” Both she and Alistair turned to Riordan, “What does that mean? Can I still fight? Are you and Alistair at greater risk?”

He thought for a moment. “Since you can still feel the darkspawn to some degree, you should still be able to perform as a Grey Warden. If it’s taken this long since you started your journey to weaken, it may take longer still to wear off if it ever does.”

“This isn’t right,” Alyssa said, her cheeks reddening. “I don’t want to shove added responsibility to someone else.”

Riordan placed his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I’m already prepared to take the killing blow. That will render everything else moot. Now, get some sleep, both of you. We have a long road tomorrow.”

Alistair and Alyssa headed to their rooms in silence. She watched Alistair walk down the hall and called out to him before he turned the doorknob. “Wait.” She took a deep breath. “What do we tell Zevran and Leliana?”

Alistair started to speak, but something caught his eye. He smirked and reached past Alyssa, picking up a crystal tumbler from the corner of Riordan’s door. “You’re assuming they don’t already know.” Alistair chuckled, “Anyhow, I won’t insult her intelligence. Hiding anything from her is fool’s errand.” He pursed his lips. “Are you going to talk to Zevran?”

“Probably.”

“Are you ok?”

Alyssa said nothing and headed to her room; shoulders slumped and staff trailing behind her. 

* * *

**Zevran**

Zevran's stomach felt like it was full of nails as he approached the upper hallway of Arl Eamon's Redcliffe estate. He still had no idea what to say to Alyssa. A maelstrom of thoughts tumbled through his mind since he took back the earring. Her note hung in his mind, and even though she wanted to apologize, he was still unsure of himself. He shook his head and swore under his breath.

As he passed Alistair's room, he heard raised voices. He was surprised to hear Alistair and Leliana arguing, but the door was too thick to make out any words. Something Alistair said to Leliana made her start sobbing. Zevran had never heard her like this before and wondered what it was that Alistair said.

He barely took a step down the hall when a dire wolf ran toward him. He flattened himself against Alistair's door as it rushed past. "Figlio puttana…" Peeling himself of the door, he heaved a deep sigh and put a hand over his heart, feeling it still racing from the shock. He noticed that it was Alyssa's room that the wolf exploded from, and the door was now wide open. It was quiet. If she was inside, the animal hadn't frightened her, or maybe it ate her. Probably not.

Even though the door was open, Zevran still knocked to announce his arrival. Alyssa was facing the fire, clutching her staff with one hand and the mantel with the other. "Warden?" Zevran said softly, "Are you quite alright?" It was the slow way that she turned around that made chills run down his spine. Her face was red and wet with tears. The front of her robes was practically soaked by them. Forgetting everything from the last two days, Zevran rushed over to her and swept her into his arms. "No tears, cara, your Zevran is here." He held her as she cried, probably the loudest he had ever heard. When it seemed that there was no sign of her stopping, he moved her to the bed's edge, fumbling through his pockets, "I believe I owe you an apology."

Alyssa blinked the tears from her eyes. Her voice was rough and squeaky from crying, "To me? For what?"

"Our last time together, I was acting like a child," he shrugged his shoulders. "I was told that opening myself up to others was dangerous and should be avoided at all costs. Any emotion, any concern for someone, was a liability. The Crows were very successful at drumming this into us. And with you, after all of this, I can see that it was wrong." Zevran took her hand and placed the jeweled earring gently in her palm. "I am sorry, and I would still like you to have this. That is if you still want m— want it." He swallowed hard.

Alyssa looked down at the earring and smiled. She pinned it to the front of her robes, right over her heart. Her bottom lip started to quiver again, and a fresh round of tears fell. "It's beautiful."

Zevran held her close, "Cara, please. Talk to me." He kissed her forehead. "I saw a wolf run from your room, as big as can be, and Leliana is also very upset with Alistair. What is going on?" They were quiet for a few moments, and as the time stretched between them, he got the feeling there was more. "Mi, amor… you know I never pry into your secrets, but I wish you would talk to me."

Alyssa took several shuddering breaths before she could speak. "It was Morrigan. She left for good, because I told her no."

Zevran shook his head, "To what?"

She gulped a few times. "She said there was a ritual that would keep us tomorrow, but Alistair would have to sleep with her. I couldn't ask him to do that. He hates her, and Leliana would be distraught."

"Not to belittle your distress, cara," Zevran said, "but isn't that worth it if both of you would be protected?"

"I don't know." She pulled back and lifted her arms wide before letting them fall roughly at her sides. “She said something about Alistair getting her pregnant with a god baby. It doesn't matter. I told her no. What if it was true? What if she could save us from the Archdemon? I sentenced us both to death over some antiquated notions about sexual fidelity." With the last few words, her voice went high pitched, and she started crying again.

Zevran rubbed his mouth as his mind whirled. "Alyssa," he touched his temple and covered one eye, "did you say 'god baby'?"

Her tears slowed. "Um…yeah."

"And you don't think that was the bigger issue?"

"Oh." She chuckled. "I guess I did gloss over that."

He smirked, "If Alistair wasn't up for the challenge."

She rolled her eyes. "You couldn't handle her. Besides, it had to be Alistair because of the taint in his blood. Riordan was too old or some shit, but I feel like she made that up."

"What does this mean?"

"It means," her voice shook, "that whichever one of us gives the killing blow will be possessed by the Archdemon's soul. The tainted soul of an old god."

It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room. Zevran closed his eyes and swallowed hard. Not again. He couldn't do this again. "And then?"

"Since there's already a soul in my body, adding another would kill me," she said, blinking away tears. “That’s assuming that a soul is real. We’re probably just bags of meat. Aging, rotting, bags of meat walking around and thinking we’re important.” She paced in front of the fire place, “And there’s no proof of an existence after death. If there is an 'ever after,' does that disappear when my spirit is forced out of my body? Because if it’s destroyed in the process then that’s it. No ever after.“ Her voice was shrill, and she started talking faster, gasping between sentences. "The darkness will hit, and I'll be obliterated. I won't exist, won't feel. Nothingness. What am I gonna do? I don't want this! Oh, Maker, I can't do this! Please, I can't do this!" Alyssa dropped to her knees hard, wrapping her arms around herself tightly and rocking back and forth. Zevran dived to her side and took her in his arms. She cried hard into his shoulder as he stroked her hair. Over and over, she whimpered 'please no,' as if praying for this cup to pass would make it so. 

It was a while before she was exhausted from the terror that ripped through her. When Zevran felt her finally calm, he asked, "You said Riordan has volunteered for this, yes?"

Alyssa nodded.

"Ah! That is not so bad," he said. The way his heart was crashing in his chest, Zevran didn't feel the conviction of his words. Grasping at straws, also begging it to not be true. "We stick to the plan. Let the old Warden finish the job."

"That's not all…" She got up and washed her face in the small basin on the nightstand. He felt a hard knot forming in the pit of his stomach when she turned to face him. "I haven't been able to sense the darkspawn as easily as I did at first. If Riordan and Alistair fail, I might not be able to finish the job. I don't know what happens after that. It could retreat to gather its strength and then return later. With Fereldan's forces routed after a first wave, there would be no stopping a second."

Zevran rubbed his face with his hands and rested his elbows on his knees. The floor creaked as Alyssa sat next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. "I'm sorry."

"What for?"

"Telling you all of this."

"To shoulder this alone?" He cupped her face in his hand, "We have been alone far too long, mi amor." 

She smirked, "You know I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to follow Morrigan."

"You do not wish me to stand by you in the end?"

"What? No, that's not what I mean."

"I tease, cara." He smiled. "In truth, for the chance to be by your side, I would storm the Dark City itself. Never doubt it."

They held each other, listening to the crackling of the fire and the sound of the wooden floors settling. Alyssa said, "Is this the end?"

Zevran turned her in his arms to face her, "If it is, then let us make our last night one that the bards themselves envy." 

He helped her to her feet, feeling her tremble in his arms. She was always like this at first. Hesitant and unsure of how to start being intimate, mind spinning about what was expected, what she could say no to. Alyssa had said as much after the first time they made love. As always, Zevran was patient and reassuring, stressing that she could stop at any point without explanation. Sometimes she did, most times not. 

Zevran escorted her over to the bed and tilted her chin up for a kiss. Her lips were warm and inviting. He darted his tongue over her bottom lip and wrapped his arms tighter around her. Soon, buckles came loose, fabric slipped from shoulders, and boots were kicked off. They tangled themselves in the Arl's silk sheets, their hands exploring each other with feather-light touches. Zevran nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck and nibbled gently where the shoulder met. Alyssa arched her back into him, pressing her chest hard against his and wrapping her legs around him. He grabbed her wrists, not as a restraint, but to apply pressure to enhance her pleasure. Alyssa smiled and leaned into the grip, asking for more or less as it pleased her. With his hands, he explored her, writing poetry on her skin. His kisses crafted sonnets to her beauty: his tongue, composed ballads to her fire. 

At Alyssa's direction, they turned over, her legs straddling him, and her hair cascading in a shower of dark curls. They started to move rhythmically together, heat and tension building with each caress. Zevran grabbed her hips, pushing her down onto him to feel deeper inside her. Just before reaching release, he guided her off and slipped behind her, again nuzzling her neck, but softer this time. He ran his hands down her breasts, across her stomach, and between her thighs. She arched into him again, bringing his free hand up to her chest. In slow, deliberate movements, Zevran circled his fingers, lighting up her senses, and entered her again. 

The rhythm, this time was slower but much more intense and more measured. Listening to her carefully, he was able to pull back several times, keeping her a beat away from ecstasy to make the night last longer. Over and over, they would crescendo and then relax until it was too much to resist. He grabbed her hips again with one hand and kept his other between her thighs, now tightened to almost halting his motions. Being the gentlemen that he was, Zevran slowed his speed and increased his pressure, feeling her thrash against him, shuddering and moaning loudly. He picked up his pace, struggling against the strength of her grip, and felt his own glorious release on the heels of hers. 

Their skin hot and energy spent, Zevran and Alyssa lowered to the bed together, embracing each other and feeling their hearts slowing. She was still short of breath when she said, "I'm so glad you're here."

Zevran smiled and kissed her brow. "Sempre, mi amor." The moon had made its way across the sky enough to be seen through the window. It was waning crescent, heralding a new moon tomorrow. It would cast the world in darkness. It seemed fitting that even the light of the moon would vanish from the battlefield. They held each other close, heads too full for sleep, but hearts too full of bliss to stay awake for long. Zevran felt Alyssa curl closer into him and the soft movement of her eyelashes as she finally let sleep take over. Tomorrow could wait. Tonight, he held her close to his heart, safe in his arms. 


	32. Abandon All Hope, Ye Who Enter Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the final battle at fort drakon

**Alyssa**

Denerim was on fire. The Wardens and their armies made it there in record time but not before the darkspawn had breached the gates and overrun the city. Queen Anora did her best to evacuate before the siege, but many still died. Alyssa had put Sten and Oghren in charge of leading several battalions since both of them had leadership experience. They had done a fantastic job and managed to get the main square under control quickly with minimal casualties. Wynne had set up a triage area for the troops. Many soldiers were receiving healing or last rites with the mages' aid, depending on the severity of their injuries. For all the progress they made, the second onslaught of darkspawn was heading to the city gates.

"Sten, Oghren, I need you both to stay here and manage the troops," Alyssa said. "Wynne is staying behind to see to the wounded, and we'll need to hold those gates. I'm sure the darkspawn aren't done with us yet." Her mouth set in a grim line. "They cannot get through those gates. If they do, we're done here. Understand?"

They both nodded and headed immediately to regroup their soldiers. She turned to Riordan, "This is it, isn't it?"

"Yes," Riordan said. "Are you ready?"

Alyssa looked around the square. People helping each other, fires being put out, cheers of victory, tears of loss, and every last one of them was counting on the Wardens. They had fought their way here, through the obstacles that Loghain put in their path, and managed to bring several races together to fight a common enemy. Considering how they started, it was no short of a miracle. She closed her eyes for a moment to try and sense the archdemon. All she could pick up was the sounds around her. Ashfur's constant barking wasn't helping the matter either. Alyssa tried to focus harder, letting her mind relax and shut out the chaos from the battlefield.

"Alyssa," Riordan's voice jarred her out of her concentration.

She sighed, "I can't."

He nodded. "We can't linger much longer."

Again she closed her eyes. Retreating into herself, Alyssa's senses picked up acrid smoke, coppery sweet stench, voices of the soldiers, heat from the fires still burning. There it was. Soft at first but growing stronger. A heartbeat, irregular and thrumming. It was hard to hold onto as if she was walking through a fog. The sound of leathery wings beating overhead snapped her eyes open. The archdemon glided over the city with a roar to shake the foundations of the earth, spewing purple flame as it went.

Alyssa called out, "Ashfur! Go get Alistair, Leliana, and Zevran. It's time."

"Ruff!"

She watched the dog run off and swallowed hard. "I don't want to do this."

"I know." Riordan put a hand on her shoulder.

With one last look up at the parapets, she took a deep breath and headed further into the city. Fort Drakon was where they would make their stand.

* * *

**Alyssa**

The Wardens fought each step of the way to reclaim the ground taken by the darkspawn. They had flooded into every corner of the city and expended their resources along the way. Alyssa's suspicions about her healing ability were right. Wounds seemed to close up right before her eyes, and she was able to rejuvenate her teammates from across the field with ease. At one point, she pulled an arrow from her shoulder, and the wound sealed up seconds after. Shifting in and out of her cat form was much more fluid and invaluable as they made their way up the tower. Darkspawn were ripped apart in short order, but the sheer number of them hindered their progress. Eventually, they reached the final set of doors that would open up to the roof. 

Alyssa rested her shaking hands on the metal door rings. She could feel her heart crashing in her chest and hear her blood roaring in her ears. Riordan's voice came from behind her. "Warden, we need to press on. Time is of the essence."

"Yeah, I know," she snapped, "gimme a minute." They didn't have a Plan B. Why didn't they have a Plan B? They should have planned up through G, but they didn't because there was no time left. Two souls can't occupy the same space. She should have yes to Morrigan. What if it fell to her? Alistair? No, don't think about that, it's too much. A roar shook the doors and forced the team back several feet. "…..Crap."

Alistair was at her side. "We're in this together," he said softly. "Remember when we first met?"

"You asked if I was going to turn you into a toad," she smiled.

He grinned back, "You told me your favorite color was dark green."

Alyssa rubbed her face quickly and swallowed hard, tempering her fear for the moment. With a heavy shuddering sigh, she said, "Ok, let's go. No matter what happens--"

"--We do it together." Alistair finished.

The doors opened into a scene of carnage. Human and elven forces were outnumbered, and surges of darkspawn threatened to overtake them. Clinging to one of the arrow towers was the archdemon, breathing purple flames down on the troops. Ashfur was the first out on the roof, followed quickly by the Wardens and the rogues. His jaws broke through limbs like they were twigs and tore through flesh like tissue paper. One after another, enemies fell to the mabari hound, forging a path through the horde. Riordan cut through the line, silver blades flashing in the firelight, splitting foes into halves. The Wardens fought back to back, sword, and shield backed by claw and fang. Every now and then, Alyssa would shift back into human form to blast her companions with healing magics. 

"Zevran!" Alyssa called out, "Get to the ballista and start firing at the archdemon! Leliana, get to the other and do the same!" They nodded and slipped into shadow, making their way undetected to the ballista. Arrows the size of tree trunks hit the archdemon, forcing it to the ground. It thrashed about, slamming friend and foe both with its armored tail. They got off one more shot each before the horde caught up to them, and then Alyssa lost sight of them both. "Alistair, I can't see them," she screamed over the battle. 

"Find Zevran. I'll go after Leliana." Alistair dashed off into the fray heading for the ballista Leliana was operating.

More darkspawn surged onto the roof.

Alyssa ran in the opposite direction, her eyes scanning the battlefield, trying to find any hint of the elf. Another shot from the ballista across the roof hit the archdemon. It glanced off its side and clattered to the floor below. Alyssa saw Alistair and Leliana back to back, thinning out the horde around them. Leliana had her daggers out and was favoring one arm over the other. Alistair was shielding that same side of her as they sidestepped to a better position. Several of their soldiers rallied to their aid, but she would need healing. 

Alyssa turned back to where she last saw Zevran. He was on top of the ballista now, with darkspawn surging around him. Drips of poison glittered and flicked off the blade tips as he dispatched them one by one. It was taking too long. For every one that fell, two or three took its place. Alyssa heard Ashfur snarl at her side, and the two raced toward the platform. Fire wreathed her; tendrils of it entwined her body like snakes and lashed out at the darkspawn. Some ignited and fled. Others fell to the ground, the stench of their skin charred through to bones filling the air. 

More darkspawn surged onto the roof.

The Warden and Mabari both slid several feet across the ground, now slick with black and red blood. Alyssa staggered back, blinded by a vision of dark caverns and an enormous pink monstrosity, belching out darkspawn. The smell of the Brood-mother filled her mind, and a calling screamed in her ears. _Use the blood. They will be lost unless you use the blood._ Strangepulsing under her skin was so hard her limbs started to flail outward in erratic patterns. Ashfur's panicked barking was distant and drowned out under the pull to use the forbidding magic. 'I promised,' Alyssa clung to the thought, 'I promised. I won't.' She focused on her inner fire, drawing from its warmth, using its power to ground her. She opened her eyes and saw the battlefield as it was moments before her vision was altered.

More darkspawn surged onto the roof.

But this time, it wasn't only her small team that was at the ready. Alyssa grabbed the horn at her side and blew forcefully into it. It rang out clear and strong across the roof and through the open doors. Within moments a fresh rally of elves, dwarves, and humans rushed through the corridors and ran to their aid. New fighters counter surged on the darkspawn, the surprise plain on the enemies' faces. Arrows flew, spells were cast, axes crashed into demon bodies. The darkspawn struggled to rally against the Warden's armies coming to her call. 

Fereldan fighters surged onto the roof.

At the sight of the tide turning, Alyssa could feel the pull towards blood magic lessen and finally release its grip. She heard Ashfur's enthusiastic bark and smile when she saw him standing on a pile of darkspawn, "Good boy." He grinned a big doggy smile. The two of them continued their run to the ballista. Cat and dog, fighting in tandem across the roof, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake. 

They stopped at the steps leading up to the ballista to see Zevran slicing his way through several darkspawn archers, with a pack of mages at his back. "Ah, my dear, Warden," he said with a flourish, "Did you miss me?"

"Come on, not now," Alyssa said. Hearing him be so flippant filled her with relief. "We have to make it to Alistair and Leliana. I lost sight of them coming to rescue you."

With the mabari, they made their way through the battle toward their companions, only to see Alistair and Leliana running towards them. "Thank the Maker you sounded the horn when you did," Alistair said. His armor was covered in blood and dented on the left side. "We were almost overtaken before the cavalry responded."

Leliana looked grey, her arm hanging limp at her side. 

Alyssa primed her magic, "How bad is it?"

"Cracked at least," Leliana winced. "I can't lift my bow."

Alistair, Zevran, and Ashfur surrounded Alyssa and Leliana to give time for the healing to finish.

The archdemon raised its head and let out an earsplitting roar. Alyssa caught a glimpse of Riordan, running straight at it, blade drawn. As she turned her head to get a better look, the archdemon raised its front leg and brought it crashing down onto Riordan, pinning him with its claws. "NO!!" She screamed. Time stretched out to infinity as she saw the archdemon lower its head to the Warden. With its razor-sharp teeth, it tore his upper half clean off his body, entrails hanging out of its mouth.

A high pitched whine drowned out the sound of battle. She saw mouths moving but nothing coming out of them. Her lips went numb watching the blood spill out of Riordan's lower half, now discarded by the archdemon. Ashfur had clamped down on her arm and shook her hard. She looked down at him, not recognizing him for a moment. A ballista projectile crashed into the ground inches away from the team, finally knocking her out of her stupor. Alyssa shook her head and ran with the mabari to a less battle-sieged area of the roof and tried to get eyes on the archdemon. It climbed the tower again, and now the darkspawn had control of the ballista. 

Alistair shouted, "Go! Cut the limbs. Do what you can to keep it on the ground." He and Zevran charged forward, slashing anything that got in their way. 

Leliana was now able to pepper the darkspawn with arrows, giving them cover on their run. 

Alyssa's mind raced. ' _If you don't do this, Alistair will.'_ She couldn't let him do that. _'If you do this, Zevran will be alone.'_ He'd be distraught without her. ' _If neither of you does this, the world is lost.'_ Round and round the thoughts demanded a choice, now, fast, and forever. No one was going home happy. 

Ashfur whined and pawed at her leg. Alyssa paced her breathing to slow down the adrenaline racing through her blood. "Ashfur, get me up there."

He shook his head and growled at her.

She glared at him, "You want Alistair to do this? Do you? Or for them to win?"

Ashfur lowered his head and howled long and mournful.

"I know." Alyssa kissed his broad head. "I love you, baby. You're a good dog. The best ever. Take care of Zevran for me?"

He licked her face, and then, iron-willed, Ashfur dashed through the thick of the horde, decimating their forces as he cleared a path for his mistress. Alyssa was hot on his tail; her robes wreathed in flames reaching outward several feet from her body. 

At the tower's base, the Warden Mage thrust her staff into the stone floor, sending a crack up through it that knocked the archdemon onto the roof below. It was stunned for a few moments. She sped toward it, snagging Riordan's discarded sword on her way, and jumped on the back of its neck. It thrashed about wildly, trying to shake her off, but she held on fast and directed her flames into its scales. The archdemon's armor worked against it, trapping the heat inside the scales and searing the skin underneath. It screamed out, blowing flames in all directions and clawing at the stone around it. 

Alyssa split her shifting power, morphing her hands into panther claws, and plunged them into the archdemon. Inch by inch, she drove her nails into the beast and pulled herself to its head, clinging to it as hard as she could. It swung its head at one of the towers in an attempt to shake her off. Alyssa felt her spine and skull crack against the stone, blood pouring down her back. A bright green light shot out of her wounds and sealed them almost as quickly as they were made. The effort left her dizzy. She saw triple, but it didn't matter. The archdemon's head was within reach. It flung its head in the direction of another tower. Alyssa clenched her grip around the sword, reared up, and sank it through the archdemon's brain, the end piercing through its mouth.

Bright white light exploded out from the archdemon, consuming the roof in its luster and dazzling all within range. Archdemon and Warden both crashed to the floor, sending stone flying in every direction. Alyssa's vision cleared just enough for her to see the archdemon lying dead next to her. As her sight faded, she mustered up her strength one last time to say, "Take that you fuck….." 

Then, her world fell to darkness, and her fire snuffed out.


End file.
